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Love Comes Home and A Sheltering Love: Love Comes Home / A Sheltering Love
Terri Reed
Fall in love again with these uplifting stories from Terri ReedLOVE COMES HOME Twelve years ago, Dr. Rachel Maguire followed her faith into medicine, choosing her career over love. But time never diminished her feelings for Josh Taylor, and now God is giving Rachel another chance–if she can overcome the pain of the past.A SHELTERING LOVEWith her faith as strong as her shoulders, Claire Wilcox opens a shelter for runaways. But it's her mysterious handyman who causes her sleepless nights. As their attraction grows, Nick Andrews must decide if he can trust in God's power to heal.



Praise for Terri Reed and her novels
“In Love Comes Home, Terri Reed tells the touching story of a couple whose faith must help them overcome past hurts.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Terri Reed’s A Sheltering Love beautifully combines the development of love with enough conflict to keep the reader guessing about the outcome. God’s ability to repair relationships is tenderly depicted.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Reed’s characters are warm, true to life and imperfect.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on A Time of Hope
“Giving Thanks for Baby has a nice twist that readers are certain to enjoy. Terri Reed does an exceptional job blending deeper issues with her story to bind a well-written book.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Love Comes Home & A Sheltering Love
Terri Reed



CONTENTS
LOVE COMES HOME
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
A SHELTERING LOVE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue

TERRI REED
At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA® Award finalist and a 2005 National Reader’s Choice Award finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.
You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280, visit her on the Web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com or leave comments on her blog at http://ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com/.

Love Comes Home
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope.
—Jeremiah 29:11

I want to dedicate this book
to everyone who has struggled to pursue a dream.
Keep believing. Faith and perseverance do pay off.
There are so many people to thank, who,
in one way or another, have touched my life
as a writer. I apologize if I’ve forgotten anyone
and ask for your forgiveness.
First and foremost, thank you to my husband and
children. I could never have done this without your
love and support. Thank you to my mother-in-law
for urging me to follow my dream. Thank you to
my mother for always believing in me.
A big thanks to my critique partners, Leah Vale and
Lissa Manley, for encouraging me, challenging me
to grow and never letting me quit.
Thank you to my writerly friends:
Melissa McClone, Delilah Ahrendt,
Tina Bilton-Smith, Amy Danicic, Carolyn Zane,
Susan Alverson, Cynthia Rutledge
and Lenora Worth. I have learned
and grown from knowing you.
And a heartfelt thanks to my spirit-filled sisters
who’ve been my cheering section as well as my
friends: Tricia, Sherry B., Sheri S., Deanna, Debbie
and all the ladies at Southlake Foursquare Church.
But mostly, I thank my Savior Jesus,
for all the blessings.

Chapter One
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not calamity, to give you a future and a hope.”
—Jeremiah 29:11
She was home.
Inhaling deeply the fresh scent of pine and exhaust-free air, Dr. Rachel Maguire stared at the seven-story redbrick building, the words Sonora Community Hospital spelled out in bright blue letters across the side. A strange tightness pulled at her chest. As a child, this had been the first hospital she’d ever entered.
Her gaze dropped to another set of letters above the door in front of her. Her breath froze. The emergency entrance.
She shied away from using the double sliding doors, and instead followed the tidy walkway, carpeted on either side by lush green lawns, leading to the main entrance. The early-June sun warmed her face, and from high in the branches of a towering pine an unseen bird chirped a melodic tune. Off in the distance to the east, the peaks of the Sierra Nevadas rose to meet the clear blue sky. Even to her untrained eye, the vibrant greens and hues of brown and gold dotting the hillside were a painter’s dream.
She paused, alert to the eerie peacefulness and serenity around her. With no outside noise to blend with, the unsettled, restless feelings she constantly lived with clamored for attention. She closed her eyes and willed the chaos to subside. She missed the pulsing beat of Chicago.
But not returning to California hadn’t been an option.
Mom G. needed her.
Rachel took a deep breath, adjusted her grip on her small suitcase and walked through the sliding doors of the main hospital entrance. Even inside the hospital, tranquillity reigned. People waiting in the lobby area spoke in lowered tones and soothing, classical music played from somewhere overhead. She stepped briskly up to the administration desk.
“I’m looking for Mrs. Olivia Green’s room.”
The woman behind the desk smiled. “Hello, Rachel.”
“Hello.” She struggled to put a name to the round, wide-eyed face.
“Polly Anderson, now Campbell. You were a year ahead of me in school.”
“Oh.” Rachel didn’t remember her, but smiled politely. “Hello, Polly.”
“Your mom is on the fifth floor, room six. She’ll be glad to see you. Welcome home.”
Rachel blinked, surprised that anyone here would remember her after all this time and that there would be such open friendliness. Her fast-paced world had little time for niceties.
“Thank you, Polly,” she said, and hurried to catch the elevator.
The doors opened on the fifth floor. Emotionally steeling herself, she stepped out. With a purposeful stride, she headed down the corridor. Overhead, the fluorescent lights glowed bright. A distinctive, familiar antiseptic smell assaulted her senses and settled in the back of her throat, offering her a measure of comfort.
Strange, she’d never before noticed how the quiet hum and soft beeping of machines coupled with the rumble of hushed voices lent the air a surreal quality. She’d spent so many years working in hospitals that her senses had grown accustomed to the surroundings. She couldn’t remember ever noticing the atmosphere of her work. It was all part of being a doctor.
Only, this wasn’t her hospital and she wasn’t here as a doctor. She was a visitor. A chill ran down her spine. Someone she loved lay in one of these rooms. Even though she’d reviewed Mom G.’s chart and knew her prognosis, the older woman’s condition didn’t seem real. Rachel didn’t want it to be real.
She stopped. Her breathing turned shallow. A long-suppressed memory surfaced, and her mind reeled. Memories of walking down a similar corridor. She’d been six years old, her hand held firmly in the grasp of Nurse Claire, the woman who’d taken charge of her after they’d arrived at the hospital.
“Is my mommy all right?”
The woman’s kind gaze regarded her steadily. “I don’t know, honey.”
Not much comfort there. There’d been no daddy to run to, either. After her mother had died, no man had come forward claiming her as his daughter. No one had wanted her.
Until years later, when her foster mother, Olivia Green, legally adopted her. But she’d insisted that Rachel keep her last name in honor of her mother.
Mom G. gave Rachel not only a place to belong but reason to hope. The generous woman’s loving nature had stirred up Rachel’s pain of losing her mother. And Rachel had finally given in to the tears she’d held so long. In her gentle wisdom, Mom G. had suggested Rachel channel her grief into making a difference in the world.
God had handed her a purpose in that moment. She would become a doctor so she could improve and change the triage techniques used in emergency rooms, procedures that had cost her mother her life. That was Rachel’s life goal, her focus, never to be forgotten nor sidetracked from.
She squared her shoulders and continued walking.
Standing outside of room 6, she whispered, “Lord, I need Your strength.”
When she pushed open the door, the fragrant scent of gardenias greeted her and she smiled, pleased to know the flowers she’d ordered had arrived. She wanted Mom G. to be surrounded by the things she loved.
Rachel stepped inside the cheery private room, her gaze taking in the woman she loved so dearly. She’d seen thousands of patients hooked up to IVs, heart rate and blood pressure monitors, and machines that helped the body function, but seeing the once-vibrant and beautiful Olivia Green hooked up accordingly made Rachel’s knees wobbly. She quelled the uncharacteristic sensation by sheer will. She wouldn’t give in to any weakness.
Remember your purpose.
But she hated seeing Mom G. so still and quiet. Rachel’s gaze swung to the monitors. Heart rate, steady. Blood pressure, within a reasonable range.
Then her mind focused on the complete picture. A man sat beside the bed holding one of Mom G.’s hands. His bent head caused his tawny hair to fall forward over his brow. Dark blond lashes rested against bronze skin. His mouth moved with silent words.
Rachel swallowed. Agitated butterflies performed a riotous dance in the pit of her stomach. She blinked several times, hoping the man would disappear.
Josh Taylor. What was he doing here?
As though he’d heard her question, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. Their gazes locked. A smoldering blaze ignited and heat shimmered between them. Rachel drew in a cooling breath. She wouldn’t allow this man to burn her again.
He slowly stood, his towering frame dwarfing the room.
Emotions churned and bubbled like a whirlpool inside her. They moved like running water through her consciousness so quickly she couldn’t grasp one long enough to use as a defense against his presence. Her pulse leapt with unexpected pleasure, her heart ached with the sting of rejection and her cheeks flamed with sudden anger. She wasn’t ready for this—for seeing Josh, feeling emotions she’d long ago buried. She hated being vulnerable and unsure.
So she did what had become natural—she cloaked herself in professionalism. She was a doctor. She’d come to help Mom G., not stir the embers of a past love.
She inclined her head. “Josh.”
He followed suit. “Rachel.” His deep voice brushed over her, making her shiver with surprising awareness.
Uncomfortable with her response, she set her suitcase by the door and went to the bed, focusing her attention on Mom G. Her color looked good. Rachel picked up a hand. Veins showed through the near-translucent skin. Warm. Her hands were still warm. So many times Mom G.’s gentle hands had wiped a tear, clapped at an accomplishment, held hers when she needed comfort.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Rachel.” Josh’s softly spoken words broke the silence.
She lifted her gaze to his intense, gold-specked eyes and cocked her head to one side. “Why?”
“I never thought you’d come back.”
His comment stung. “She needs me.”
Josh nodded, his expression closed. “She does.” He shrugged. “Still, I didn’t really think you’d come.”
Hurt burrowed in deep. Her spine straightened. “I guess that says a lot about what you think of me.”
“You have no idea what I think of you.”
The look in his vibrant gaze caught her off guard. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that beneath the disdain, she saw longing. But that couldn’t be. Not after what had happened. He’d made his feelings clear years ago. With a mental tug she pulled her protective cloak tighter around her heart.
She pursed her lips. “You’re right, Josh. I have no idea what you think of me. And I’d just as soon keep it that way.”
“So would I.” His expression hardened. “So would I.”
What he thought of her didn’t matter. Not in the least. What they’d had once was long over.
Ignoring his overwhelming presence and the commotion going on inside her, she picked up the chart hanging behind the bed and studied the notes. She clenched her teeth as she read. Mom G.’s condition had worsened in the last twenty-four hours. They’d prescribed Mannitol, a drug meant to prevent herniation of the brain stem, an extreme complication of a glioblastoma multiforme.
Josh shifted, drawing her attention. “What’s that say?”
She quickly looked away, avoiding his intent gaze, and replaced the chart. “What have they told you about her condition?”
Josh let out a weary breath. “She has a brain tumor with a long, fancy name. They operated but couldn’t remove the full mass because of the risk of complications. Dr. Kessler said she’s deteriorating rapidly and time’s short.”
Rachel didn’t want to hear those words, wouldn’t allow her mind to register such dire news. A flush of anger ran through her. Dr. Kessler shouldn’t have said that to Josh. The doctor shouldn’t have ruled out hope.
“Yes, well.” She glanced down at Mom G. Fear stabbed at her, making her edgy. “We’ll see about that.”
She wasn’t about to give up. They’d barely started the chemotherapy, and other treatment options had yet to be explored. She’d find a way to help Mom G. She had to.
“She’ll be happy to see you when she wakes up.”
“How long has she been asleep?”
“She was sleeping when I arrived. And that was about thirty minutes before you. Why?”
Rachel kept the little burst of panic in check. Just because Mom G. lay sleeping didn’t mean anything other than she was tired. The rational side of Rachel’s brain warned that when the type of tumor Mom G. developed became severe enough, sleepiness eventually led to coma, then death. Rachel’s emotional side that deeply loved her adoptive mother refused to acknowledge the information. “We should wake her.”
“You should ask the doctor.”
She bristled. “I am a doctor.”
“But not her doctor,” he gently reminded.
She couldn’t refute that, though she was licensed to practice in the state of California as well as several other states. Her teaching schedule required traveling and being hands-on in other E.R.s around the country. But out of respect for Mom G.’s doctor, she said, “I’ll go find Dr. Kessler.”
Josh stepped around the bed and placed a hand on her arm. “You stay. I’ll go find him.”
Moved by his thoughtfulness, Rachel stared at his big, tanned hand where it rested against the lightweight blue fabric of her suit coat. Through the thin material, his warmth seeped into her skin. The touch evoked memories of younger days. Days when they’d been happy and in love, walking the school halls, side by side, Josh’s arm casually draped about her shoulders or their fingers intertwined.
Days long gone.
“All right.” Anything to create distance between them.
Josh moved past her. His long legs carried him with confidence. As the door swung shut behind him, the room suddenly seemed lonely and cold even though the warmth of the sun streamed through the window. She rubbed her arm where his touch lingered and went to the chair where he’d sat. Mom G. still slept. Rachel gathered one of the older woman’s hands in her own and with the other hand smoothed back a faded blond curl. “Oh, Mom G., I’m so sorry this is happening to you. But I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”
Oh, God. Please show me how to help her.
Unlike the doctors who couldn’t save her mother, Rachel would do anything for Mom G. Even if that meant dealing with Josh, who was the last person she needed in her life. She had no intention of allowing the pain of the past to repeat itself.

“Sure thing, Josh.” Dr. Kessler set the chart in his hand down on the counter of the nurses’ station. “I’ll speak with her right now.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Josh liked the man and Mrs. G. trusted him.
Dr. Kessler stuck a pen into the breast pocket of his white coat. “Are you coming?”
“No. I’m going to get some coffee.” He wasn’t ready to see Rachel again just yet. Being near her, able to touch her, hear her voice after all these years had brought back so many memories of when they were teens. It was too much to deal with in such a short time.
As Dr. Kessler disappeared into the elevator, Josh headed for the hospital chapel. He slipped into a pew. The quiet serenity of the room eased some of the turmoil within.
Almost twelve years. Twelve years since she’d walked out of his life, choosing her career, her dream of being a doctor, over their love—his love.
I love you, Josh, but I can’t stay. I have to do this.
As he ran a hand through his thick hair, jagged pain engulfed him. Pain as fresh now as it had been then. As it had been when he was fourteen and his mother’s words to his father mirrored Rachel’s.
Sharon Taylor had decided being a mother and wife wasn’t fulfilling enough. She’d left to pursue a career in the art world and never came back. She’d tried to contact Josh, had wanted to see him, but at fourteen, he’d been too hurt, too angry to welcome her overtures. He’d hardened his heart to her and refused to listen when his father tried to talk to him about her. Josh could never accept his father’s claim that he’d loved her enough to let her go. After a time she’d stopped trying. And Josh tried to forget her.
It seemed the Taylor men were under a curse. Destined to love women who had no use for marriage, commitment or family.
Josh prayed fervently that when the time came, his son would find love with a woman committed to her family. A woman passionate about marriage and motherhood.
A woman nothing like Rachel Maguire.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
He’d forced his feelings for Rachel aside and moved on with his life. He’d married and had a son whom he loved beyond anything he thought possible.
Josh opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. School would let out soon. He hoped Griff remembered Grandpa was picking him up today. If he took the bus home, no one would be there. Thankfully Mrs. G’s surgery and subsequent critical condition hadn’t happened a week later since summer vacation would start on Monday.
Until her sickness, Mrs. G. had watched Griff after school. But when Mrs. G. had gone into the hospital, Josh had made it a point to be home from work when his son got there. But today, with Mrs. G.’s condition so critical, he needed to be at the hospital.
And now Rachel was here, too.
So much the same, yet so different. The once-pretty teen had grown into a beautiful woman. Her shoulder-length ebony hair framed her face and made the most of her startling blue eyes. He drew in a deep breath and could have sworn her scent clung to his clothes. She still smelled of a flowered meadow on a summer’s day. Fresh, alive and invigorating.
That’s what had first alerted him to her presence in the hospital room. The familiar and alluring scent of Rachel.
Contrary to what he’d said, he’d known she would return. He just hadn’t realized how hard seeing her again would be. All the agony of having loved and lost, which he’d hidden away, was simmering and working its way through his heart. He didn’t like it one bit.
He didn’t need to remind himself that he wasn’t enough, that his love wasn’t enough. The knowledge was branded across his soul.
Yet this Rachel was different. As a teen she’d been warm and lively, full of laughter. Now she was so calmly cool and in control. She was like an exquisitely designed ice sculpture. Each angle and curve perfectly cut, the sleek and smooth surface beckoning to be touched. Yet to the one who dared, the scar of freezer burn would be their reward. This Rachel wasn’t the woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He took comfort in that. Finally something that didn’t remind him of the past.
Staring up at the window, he watched sunlight splinter through the various colors of the beautiful stained-glass cross. He wanted to pray for himself, wanted to lay his troubles at the feet of Jesus. But he couldn’t. Oh, he could pray for others—Mrs. G., Griff, his dad. Even strangers. But not himself.
Anger lay between him and Jesus like a desolate wasteland. No way around it, no way across it.
Abruptly he stood and walked away, leaving behind the chapel and the peace that God could offer.
He wound his way through the hospital to the cafeteria where he ordered two cups of coffee to go. Not knowing how Rachel took hers, he stuck packets of sugar and cream in his pocket. As the elevator doors opened and he stepped into the hall, he saw Rachel and Dr. Kessler talking outside Mrs. G.’s door.
Josh walked forward, sympathy stirring as he watched Rachel pace, her arms wrapping and unwrapping about her middle. Her normally creamy complexion had gone pasty white and the small splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose stood out in stark contrast. The agitation so obvious in her posture belied her coldness, and Josh fought the urge to enfold her in his arms. He approached, stopping a few paces away.
“You can’t rule out NDGA. There’ve been tremendous results with the use of chaparral tea in persons with cancerous tumors.”
“I’m not denying that, Dr. Maguire. But I don’t believe it will help Olivia.”
Rachel stopped her pacing and glared at Dr. Kessler. “But it could help. We have to at least try.”
“The best we can do for Olivia is make her comfortable.”
“The best we can do is make her better.”
“She’s entered the last stages. Even the chemo’s questionable at this point.”
Sharp, ugly pain gripped Rachel’s insides. It was her mother’s plight all over again. Everything they knew to do was being done, but they held little hope. Helplessness clawed its way to the surface. She wanted to cry, to find a dark place and curl into a tiny ball to escape this nightmare. She gritted her teeth and fought for composure. Mom G. needed her to be strong and she would be strong, because the alternative was breaking down in hysterics and that was unacceptable. There had to be hope. “But you’ll continue with the chemo?”
“For now.”
“Then the tea could make her more comfortable.”
A sad, patronizing smile touched Dr. Kessler’s lips. Rachel wanted to scream. The man didn’t get it. They couldn’t just give up on Mom G.
“All right, Dr. Maguire. I’ll see what we can do about getting some chaparral tea.”
The small victory did nothing to dispel the ache in Rachel’s heart. Deep down, she knew he was agreeing for her sake, not Mom G.’s. But she didn’t care if it meant Mom G. had a chance to live a little longer.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll go check on Olivia.” Dr. Kessler retreated into Mom G.’s room.
Rachel stared at the closed door, feeling as though her universe had been knocked off-kilter. She should be the one checking on the patient, the one in control. But here, in this hospital, she was a loved one, not a doctor.
“Rachel.”
She braced herself and turned to find Josh’s expressive hazel eyes regarding her with compassion. Her arms dropped to her sides and she resisted clenching her fists. She wouldn’t let him see how scared and uncertain she felt. She didn’t need his pity.
And his comfort would ultimately only harm her.
He held out a steaming cup of coffee and she relaxed slightly.
His square, blunt fingers engulfed the disposable cup and thin white scars stood out against his tanned skin. As she took the drink she noticed her own hand, the skin pale and smooth from years of being scrubbed and encased in rubber gloves. How different their lives had become.
The brush of his fingers scorched her skin. A splash of coffee wouldn’t have been as hot. Or as painful. She steadied herself. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful.”
Just as she feared, his presence was comforting. Like a solid oak tree in a windstorm. Able to sway and bend but never break.
“You’re welcome.” He stuck his hand into the pocket of his casual khaki slacks and pulled out packets of sugar and cream. “I didn’t know…”
“Black,” she said, moved by his concern.
Josh returned the items to his pocket.
Rachel took a fortifying swig from the cup and savored the robust flavor, until the hot liquid hit her empty stomach with an acidic thud. She grimaced. She’d forgotten to eat again.
“That bad, huh?” Josh asked, his expression softening as he gave a small laugh.
She sucked in a quick breath and could only stare. This man standing before her may be the boy she’d loved in high school but he’d matured into an appealing man she didn’t know. A man who made her want to believe a dancing hot flame could heal as well as harm.
And she had no intention of playing with fire, no matter how fascinating the blaze.
The moment stretched to an almost unbearable ache, then abruptly Josh asked, “So, what’s chaparral tea?”
Rachel blinked, but took her cue and slipped easily into her professional demeanor. “The tea leaves come from the creosote bush, which is found in the southwestern states. The healing properties of the tea have been used by Native Americans for centuries.”
“And the ND…?”
“NDGA—nordihydroguaiaretic. It’s the proponent in the plant that seems to help in reducing cancerous mass.”
“You think this tea will help Mrs. G.?”
Her poise slipped a notch as she stared down at her coffee. She wanted to believe it would help, but the doctor in her knew the chances at this point were slim to none, just as Dr. Kessler had said. But she refused to give up and reject anything that might help. She hated this feeling of helplessness.
She shrugged. “At this point, it’s hard to know what will help and what won’t.”
“That’s a typical doctor answer,” he said with the slightest trace of teasing in his tone.
She glanced up. “Pretty vague, huh?”
The corners of his generous mouth tipped upward and he sipped from his coffee.
“Habit, I suppose. As a doctor, you try not to give false hope or bad news before you’re absolutely sure.”
“Rules of the trade,” he remarked dryly.
“I suppose.”
They lapsed into silence again. Rachel drank from her cup and watched Josh. She tried to view him objectively. Adulthood had etched lines around his eyes, and the outdoors had weathered his skin to a burnished sheen. His broad shoulders looked as though they could carry heavy burdens. Sometimes she wished she had someone to share her load with, but her life didn’t have room for sharing.
“So, Rachel—” Josh broke the silence “—I hear you recently got a promotion.”
She met his gaze, expecting to be assaulted by the disdain she’d seen earlier, but his expression was curiously friendly, as if he’d just asked if she liked rainbows and sunshine instead of probing at an old wound. A wound inflicted by the choice she’d had to make.
Josh had offered her a different path, one so inviting that she’d begun to doubt God’s plan for her life. But, no matter how tempting, it would have been selfish of her to choose Josh over what she knew to be her purpose. No matter how much it hurt.

Chapter Two
“Yes. Yes, I did,” Rachel replied, proud that her voice didn’t betray her feelings.
“Good for you.”
Uncomfortable with the thought that he’d discussed her with Mom G., she wondered what else he knew about her. He certainly didn’t know what was between her and God. No one knew how emotionally crippled she was because of the way her mother had died. If anyone found out then she would be perceived as weak. And if she were viewed as weak then she wouldn’t be able to achieve her goal of making sure her mother hadn’t died in vain. No one would take her seriously. “I’ve worked extremely hard to get where I am.”
“The fast track to success,” he stated, his voice devoid of inflection and his eyes now remote.
She narrowed her gaze. “I’m on the fast track. This recent promotion will be one of many. But it’s not about success. It’s about changing the way things are done so no one else needlessly dies. My ultimate goal is to be chief of staff in a prestigious hospital where I can further the research in new and innovative triage techniques.”
“That’s certainly ambitious.”
“That’s the only way things get done.”
He shrugged. “Is being a doctor everything you thought it would be?”
Irritation flared at his casually asked question. She’d had to make a tough choice all those years ago. He’d forced her to make the choice. It was all or nothing with him. “Yes, I love being a doctor.”
He nodded, but made no comment. He shouldn’t be so calm and collected, not when her world was spinning out of her control. She wanted to shake a few leaves off his tree.
“It’s who I am.” She couldn’t help the defensiveness in her voice.
A tawny brow arched. “Must be very fulfilling.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Anger stirred in his eyes. “Nothing.” A leaf fell.
Something inside Rachel made her want to pick a fight. Anything to distract herself from what lay ahead with Mom G. “You obviously meant something by that remark, Josh. If you’ve something to say to me, then say it.”
“You’ve changed,” he stated matter-of-factly, his gaze assessing.
She almost smiled. Almost. The woman she’d become was very different from the young girl who’d left. “What? I’m not mousy like you remember?”
“You were never mousy.”
She chose to ignore the compliment in his tone. “My job’s very satisfying. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” The tension visible in his jaw claimed he was far from the ambivalence suggested in his tone. “But it doesn’t leave much room for anything else, does it?”
“I’ve never wanted anything else.” She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you still so angry?”
“I’m not angry.” His denial rang false. Leaves fell all over the place.
“Yes, you are.” She put voice to the suspicion she’d always had. “You’re angry not because I became a doctor, but because you didn’t get what you wanted.”
He looked her square in the eye, his expression derisive and taut. “You’re right, Rachel. I didn’t get what I wanted. I wanted you.”
“You didn’t want me,” she scoffed. “You wanted a wife.”
“I wanted you to be my wife.”
“No, Josh. You wanted a cookie-cutter wife. Someone you could put in a box and mold to your specifications. And it didn’t take you six months after I left to find one, did it?” Her own anger and pain reared up, making her chest ache. “That only proves how deep your undying love went, doesn’t it?”
He drew back. Hurt—desolate and unmistakable—darkened his hazel eyes. “I did love you, Rachel.”
He sounded sincere. But then, he’d always sounded sincere. “Oh, save it, Josh. I’m not buying it this time.”
“What did you expect? You left and made it very clear you weren’t coming back.” The sarcasm in his tone dug at her heart.
“But I hadn’t given up hope that we’d work things out once I finished school.” Hurt-filled tears burned behind her eyes, making her more angry that she was losing her control. Shaking her head, she admitted, “I lay in my dorm room every night and agonized over my decision. Was being a doctor worth the risk of losing you?” She gave a bitter laugh. “But I never really had you.”
Josh opened his mouth, but no words came. His perplexed expression galvanized her into adding, “You never once checked on me. No phone call. No letters. Nothing.”
He shook his head. “I was hurt and angry, Rachel. You chose your dream of being a doctor over my love. I certainly didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.” His tone seethed with anger and resignation.
“No, you were too busy planning your wedding.” Thinking about the blonde who’d been after him all through high school made her insides twist with…jealousy? No, never. “And how’s dear Andrea?”
A spasm of pain, or perhaps guilt, crossed his features. “Andrea’s dead.” He stepped around her and walked toward the elevators.
Shock doused her anger like a swollen rain cloud emptying itself. “Oh, no.” Sympathy and regret tore through her, and she hurried after him. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He jabbed his finger on the elevator call button. “Not your problem.”
She reached out, wishing she could retract her words. Josh reared away as if she were contaminated. Stung, she let her hand drop to her side. Feeling small and petty, she said softly, “I’m truly sorry.”
The elevator doors opened and he stepped in. He turned and stared at her, his eyes cold with fury and his face a hard mask of stone. An oak tree never looked so intimidating.
“Josh, please,” she implored, wanting somehow to make amends.
He looked away and the elevator doors slid shut in her face, leaving her alone.
Should she go after him?
Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath. Her unruly tongue had caused enough damage for one day. Leaving Josh alone and staying as far away from him as possible while she was in town was the best thing she could do for him…and herself.
Andrea was dead.
Compassion filled her heart to overwhelming proportions. She ached for what Josh had lost. His wife, his helpmate, his dream.
How long ago had Andrea died? How did she die? Did they have children? Goose bumps of remorse tightened Rachel’s skin.
Years ago, she’d made it clear to Mom G. the subject of Josh and his bride was off-limits. She hadn’t wanted her assumptions of his picture-perfect life confirmed. How arrogant she’d been.
The resentment she’d used to close off the pain of Josh’s marriage deteriorated, exposing her to fresh wounds.
Slowly she walked back down the hall, rubbing away the goose bumps from her arm.
How had Josh taken the news of Andrea’s death? Had he been with her at the end? Or had he been at work and received a call? How had the doctor told him? With compassion? Coldness? Understanding? Detachment?
The questions plagued her mind. And she welcomed them as she stopped in front of Mom G.’s door. As painful as it was, thinking about Josh kept her from worrying about Mom G.
Rachel leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Lord, why does life have to hurt so badly?
She hoped, when all was said and done, she’d have enough mortar left in her to repair the crumbling wall around her heart.
“Dr. Maguire?”
Rachel’s eyelids jerked open. She pushed away from the wall. “Dr. Kessler?”
He smiled kindly, his big gray eyes peering at her through his glasses. “Olivia’s asking for you.”
Relief surged in her chest. “How—how is she?”
“Holding her own for the moment.”
Relief gave way to a dull ache at the words meant to give comfort but not false hope. She nodded her thanks and stepped into the room. Her footsteps faltered slightly as she approached the bed.
A nurse hovered over Mom G. For a panicked moment Rachel feared something was wrong, that she wouldn’t have a chance to tell Mom G. how much she loved her, how much she appreciated her.
The nurse straightened and moved away, a reassuring smile on her face. Rachel resumed walking, her heart rate slowing to normal. As she reached the bedside, Mom G.’s eyes opened and she smiled. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Rachel winced at how weak and breathless her mother sounded. Taking her hand, Rachel held on tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” She wanted to say she should have been called right away but she didn’t want to lay guilt on Mom G. It would serve no purpose.
“You’re here, now. There’s so much to say before—”
“Don’t even go there,” Rachel interjected. “We’re going to make you well. I’m going to make you well.”
Mom G. shook her head. “I’m dying, dear. We must accept that.”
“Nooo!” Tears clogged her throat. She didn’t like constantly being on the verge of tears. Even when she’d bounced from foster home to foster home, she’d never been this scared or so close to the breaking point. She wanted to draw into herself as she’d done as a child. But she couldn’t. Mom G. needed her. And she needed Mom G.
“Rachel, please, don’t cry. Let’s use this time as best we can.”
Rachel wiped at the tears unceremoniously slipping down her cheeks. She nodded. There was so much to say. “I love you. I want you to know how much you mean to me. I wouldn’t be who I am today if you hadn’t taken me in.”
Mom G. squeezed her hand. “I hadn’t ever planned on having kids, but when I was asked if I’d take on one child…I prayed and God urged me to say yes. I remember the first time I saw you. So skinny and scared. And you tried so hard not to show it. Now look at you. You’re a grown woman and a wonderful doctor. Just like you’d planned. Are you happy, Rachel?”
Taken off guard by the question—surely Mom G. knew how much medicine meant to her—Rachel nodded. “Of course.”
Mom G.’s eyes narrowed. “Really? For a long time I’ve had the sense that something’s missing from your life. You’ve never talked about a man, or friends, even. Your phone conversations are always about your work. Work can’t be the only thing in your life, Rachel.”
“It’s not. I…” But try as she may, she couldn’t come up with an example. She worked six, sometimes seven days a week. Her apartment was small and cozy, but not a place she’d feel comfortable inviting anyone to visit. When she wasn’t working she went to movies by herself or rented videos. She attended a Bible study through her church, but outside of class, she didn’t socialize with any of the other participants.
When she wasn’t knee-deep in research, sometimes she’d go to the library and read the latest medical journals and texts. Occasionally she’d dated. There’d been a fellow med student in school and a real nice guy from church a while ago, but over the years she hadn’t met anyone she particularly wanted to pursue a relationship with. Besides, she didn’t have time for men. Her life was the way she wanted it. No attachments. No hassles. No pain.
“Have you seen Josh?” Mom G. asked.
“Yes.” Remembering their meeting made her skin heat with embarrassment. She’d acted very badly, nothing like how she’d expected to act. Calm and cool, showing him that he couldn’t affect her, which was how she’d dreamed their reunion would be. “He was here when I arrived.”
Mom G.’s expression became wistful. “It seems like only yesterday I was watching you go off to the prom with him. You two made such a handsome couple.”
A shiver of vivid recollection raced through Rachel. Her beautiful dress, Josh’s tux. The excitement, the anguish. “I haven’t thought about that night in years.”
“The king and the queen of the ball,” Mom G. teased lightly.
Rachel laughed, remembering the almost giddy feeling she’d had when they’d placed the gold crown on her head. “It was a perfect evening.” At first.
“That was the night Josh proposed.”
Rachel slid her gaze away from the intense look in Mom G.’s eyes. Her mind burned with the unwanted memories of that night. Josh had looked so handsome wearing that crown. They’d been dancing when he’d pulled her out onto the balcony and asked her to be his wife.
She’d been torn between her love for him and the path God had chosen for her. At the time she naively thought she could have both. She’d asked Josh for time, for him to be patient. Had expected they’d find a way to work it out that she could become a doctor and his wife.
But when it came down to accepting his proposal and his condition of staying in Sonora or the full scholarship to Northwestern, she’d chosen medicine because her soul would die if she didn’t.
At that moment she’d known that God’s plan for her didn’t include the kind of love she’d have only with Josh.
“That was a long time ago and has no bearing on my life now.”
Sadness filled Mom G. eyes. “I’ve respected your wish not to talk about him. But, dear, we need to have this talk.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you both.”
Rachel drew in a deep breath. She’d learned long ago it was better to meet a challenge head on rather than flee from it. “All right, if that’s what you wish.” She didn’t want to have this conversation while standing. She sat down. “I know about Andrea.”
Mom G.’s eyes widened. “Then you’ve talked with Josh.”
“A little.”
Mom G. shook her head; her wispy blond hair stuck to the pillow. “Such a waste.”
“How—how did she…?” Rachel wanted to know, yet she knew sometimes there was protection in ignorance.
Mom G. pursed her lips. “An awful, awful car accident.”
Rachel winced in sympathy. She shuddered slightly and suppressed the image of the last car accident victim she hadn’t been able to save. “It must have been hard on Josh.”
“Oh, honey, it was in so many ways.” Mom G. stared into space for a heartbeat then turned to Rachel. “Do you have someone in your life?”
She blinked. “Uh…you mean a man?”
“Are you involved in a relationship?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. Good.” Mom G. seemed to relax.
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean ‘good’?”
Mom G. gripped Rachel’s hand tight. “Is your hope still in Jesus?”
Rachel gently patted the frail hand encased within her own. “Yes, my hope’s in Jesus. He’s my strength. You showed me that—you and Josh.”
Mom G. nodded. “God loves you.”
“I know. He’s blessed me greatly. He brought me to you. Without Him and you in my life I’d…be lost. I’m doing what He wants with my life.”
Mom G.’s brows drew together. “But He wants so much more for you.”
More? She’d tried to have more once and she’d ended up with nothing but pain. Loving was a risk she was no longer willing to take. She shook her head. “I have everything I need. There couldn’t possibly be more.”
“What about love? Aren’t you lonely?”
Mom G.’s words struck a cord within Rachel. She tugged at her bottom lip, loath to admit that there had been times over the years she’d watched couples, families, and felt an ache she couldn’t explain. Was it loneliness?
Maybe.
But loneliness was a small price to pay to fulfill God’s plan and to protect her heart.
“My life’s very full. I might not have as many friends as I could…” Rachel frowned at the direction of her thoughts. Friends couldn’t help in her quest to change emergency room procedures. “I just don’t have time for relationships.”
“Don’t grow old alone. Believe me, it’s not fun.”
Guilt reached up and slapped Rachel. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”
Mom G. touched Rachel’s cheek. “No, honey, you had to do what you needed to do. I regret that I never remarried after Frank died. I don’t want you to make the same mistake.”
Rachel nuzzled into the touch. She hadn’t known Mr. Green. He’d been gone long before she’d come to live with Mom G. His picture graced the nightstand in Mom G.’s bedroom. “I’ll be fine, I promise,” Rachel assured her.
“Don’t you think you’d be better with Josh in your life?”
Rachel schooled her features. She didn’t want Mom G. to know how upsetting she found the subject of Josh. She didn’t want her to know she still hurt deep inside her heart, in a far corner she pretended didn’t exist.
“Don’t avoid this Rachel.”
Rachel met Mom G.’s gaze straight on. “There’s nothing to avoid. Josh isn’t a part of my life and he’s not going to be.”
Tears gathered at the corners of Mom G.’s eyes. “He needs you.”
Mom G.’s sadness tore at Rachel. She wouldn’t be able to make Mom G. happy. Not if her happiness involved Josh. “This is upsetting you.”
“He needs you,” Mom G. insisted.
Slowly Rachel shook her head. “He’s never needed me.”
“But he does. Rachel, he’s always loved you and you still love him.”
A double-edged sword of hurt and anger sliced through her. Her heart raced and her blood pounded in her ears. Josh didn’t love her. She doubted he ever had.
As for her loving him…She closed her eyes briefly and hardened her heart. Been there, done that. Not doing it again. Emotions would not control her actions. Her goal in life was to make sure her mother hadn’t died in vain, not to resurrect her relationship with Josh.
She opened her eyes and took a calming breath, regaining her composure. “It’s not a matter of love. Josh had an idea of what he wanted in a wife and I wasn’t it. He wanted someone I couldn’t be.”
“But that was then.”
Rachel lifted one shoulder. “Nothing has changed. I’m still who I am.”
“But they need you.”
They? Rachel figured she must mean Josh and his father, Rod.
Mom G. dropped her gaze and sighed, but not before Rachel saw the disappointment in her eyes. She wouldn’t say anything to encourage Mom G. She and Josh were history. And nothing could change that.
“Tell me about your new position.”
Rachel nodded, thankful for a subject she’d have no trouble discussing, a subject that didn’t make her suffer deep in her soul.
Because no matter how she looked at it, the subject of Josh would only bring her heartache.

The late-afternoon sun began to make its descent behind the mountain range, the fading light casting long shadows across the yard and backlighting Josh’s Victorian house. Coming home at the end of the day always gave him a sense of satisfaction and peace. He’d worked long and hard refurbishing the broken-down Victorian, preserving as much of the original woodwork as possible. The overgrown land and swamp of a built-in pool had required hours of grueling labor to bring out the potential he’d known lay underneath. He’d created a stable sanctuary for his son and managed to ignore the vague feeling of incompleteness that plagued him at night.
Josh eased open the large solid-oak front door far enough to squeeze through. He didn’t want a squeak of the hinge to herald his arrival. He wasn’t ready to see his family, whom he could hear in the kitchen. He needed time, time to sort out the struggle going on inside of him.
He took the hardwood stairs slowly, placing each foot carefully in the spots where they wouldn’t creak. In his room he closed the door and sat on the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands.
All the way home he’d kept the thoughts at bay, forcing his mind into a blank numbness. But now they wouldn’t be held back. Had Rachel really not known about Andrea? She’d seemed genuinely surprised, and remorseful. His heart told him she hadn’t known, which only confirmed his belief that once she’d left town she’d never looked back.
Just like his mother.
Andrea. Sweet Andrea. Guilt engulfed him. He groaned, a deep, gut-wrenching sound that echoed in the quiet of his room.
Lord, it’s too much to bear. Please take my guilt.
The plea went up as it had a hundred times before, but Josh snatched his plea back before he could feel any relief. He didn’t deserve God’s attention and mentally flogged himself with the pain of his guilt.
He hadn’t loved Andrea enough. Not the way she’d needed to be loved. He’d tried to be a good husband. He’d encouraged her, supported her, provided for her. He’d given her everything he could but not the one thing she’d wanted—all of his heart.
Josh scrubbed at his face, trying to wipe away the sting of his self-loathing.
It was his fault Andrea was dead.
Because he couldn’t erase Rachel from his heart.
Rachel. Was she right that he’d only wanted a wife, any wife? Had he been that arrogant and selfish? He’d tried to love Andrea with the same intensity he’d loved Rachel, but it had never happened.
Should he have pursued Rachel after she left? According to her, yes. But would his pursuit have changed anything? Would she have come back to the mountains to be his wife?
No, she wouldn’t have.
And he couldn’t have lived in the city playing second fiddle to her career.
Josh stood and paced, the leather soles of his shoes leaving indents in the dark green carpet. In the back of his mind a thought crept up, making him pause. Had he held his heart from Andrea because he was afraid to love her too deeply?
He clenched his jaw. It didn’t matter now.
What he’d had to give hadn’t been enough for Andrea. He’d lost her, just as he’d lost Rachel and his mother. Because he was not enough. And he was never going to make the mistake of trying to love again.
Now Rachel was back. He had every intention of not seeing her again before she left. He would have to plan his visits to Mrs. G. for when Rachel wouldn’t be around.
Because this time he wouldn’t be left behind with a broken heart.

Silvery light filtered into the hospital room, filling in the shadows created by the bedside lamp.
“In the emergency room we…” Rachel paused as she noticed Mom G. fighting to keep her eyes open. “Here, now. I’ve talked enough. You should rest.”
Mom G. smiled slightly. “Your life sounds very interesting, dear.”
“It can be.” Satisfaction in her career grew through the research she’d done and the triage techniques she’d implemented so far. But so much more could be done to improve the quality of patient care, and every day she spent in the emergency room was a new adventure.
She liked delivering babies the best. Liked the amazing miracle of life. God’s wondrous process for continuing humanity. Sometimes she’d thought about switching gears and going into obstetrics or pediatrics, but she didn’t want the emotional attachments those specialties would bring. In the E.R., patients came, they left. Her heart wasn’t at risk and her mind stayed focused on her goal.
“Rachel, would you read to me for a bit?”
“Of course. What…?”
Mom G. pointed to the small bedside table. “My Bible’s in the drawer.”
She pulled out the black Bible, the same Bible that Mom G. had read to her from years ago. The worn black leather grew warm beneath her hands. “I remember this Bible.” She glanced at Mom G. For a moment it appeared Mom G. had fallen asleep. Then she opened her eyes and smiled. Rachel looked questioningly at her.
Mom G. sighed. “I think the Psalms would be soothing.”
Rachel opened the book and the once-familiar scent of Mom G.’s soft, powdery perfume wafted from the yellowed pages. A pang of nostalgia tugged at her heartstrings.
“Rachel?”
She paused and glanced up. “Yes?
“Would you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
Mom G. gazed at her intently. “Would you call Josh?”
Rachel drew back. She didn’t want to talk with Josh. “Call him?”
“I want to talk to you both.”
“I’m sure he’ll come tomorrow.” Rachel would make sure she took the opportunity to speak with Dr. Kessler in his office while Josh visited so they wouldn’t have to see each other.
Mom G. nodded. “Yes, but I want to make sure. I want to see you both together.”
She lifted her brows. “Together?” Inside, she cringed. She’d come to town for Mom G., not to spend time with Josh.
“Please,” Mom G. implored.
Rachel couldn’t deny her the request. If Mom G. wanted to see them together then they’d be here together. Even if seeing Josh was painful, Rachel would do it, for Mom G. “I’ll call him.” So much for keeping her distance.
Mom G. relaxed. “Thank you.”
Her chest hurt with love for Mom G. She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome.”
She sat back and stared at the open Bible in her lap. She didn’t like the quiver of anticipation racing along her limbs at the thought of seeing Josh again. It was a purely physical reaction. Just because she found him attractive meant nothing.
She read King David’s Psalms. Lord, speak to me. I need Your guidance. After all, she was who she was and the past was the past. There was only now, for Mom G. But Rachel didn’t feel comforted by that thought.
A familiar sense of hurt filled her, reminding her of the pain loving Josh had caused. She would keep her focus on her path in life and fortify the fortress around her heart. She refused to allow him back in because once there he would make her want something she wasn’t able to have—a life with him.

Chapter Three
Moonlight bathed the old Victorian in a soft glow as the community of Sonora settled down to enjoy another peaceful night nestled at the foot of the Sierra Nevadas. The Taylor men relaxed together in the cozy warmth of the living room. Josh had read in some parent-oriented magazine that children needed a calming home environment. He’d tried to make the inside of the house as comfortable and welcoming as possible with furniture that, in soothing greens and blues, invited relaxation yet was durable for a growing boy like Griff.
Josh liked this time of evening. He could talk to his son and find out about his day. What he’d done, seen, learned. And Josh would tell about his own day. Only, tonight he left out seeing Rachel. She wasn’t a part of their lives and never would be.
Josh glanced at his watch. “Time for bed, kiddo.”
“Aw, Dad. Come on. Just a little longer, please?”
Josh ruffled his son’s hair. “Nope. It’s time for bed.”
“Will you read to me?” Griff asked as he slowly got off the couch.
He nodded. “Go get ready for bed, then pick out your book. I’ll be up soon.”
Griff walked to the bookcase where Rod Taylor stood with a book in hand. He kissed the older man’s leathery cheek. “Good night, Grandpa.”
Rod gave the boy a hug. “Night, pipsqueak.”
Josh’s heart swelled with love for his boy. Some said Griff looked like Josh. Josh didn’t see it. His son had lighter hair, his eyes were more the color of moss than hazel and he had his mother’s smile. Sadly Josh hadn’t seen Andrea smile much toward the end. He should have tried harder to make her happy. A well-aimed stab of guilt twisted in his gut.
The phone rang.
Rod suggested, “Probably the station again. David Mackafee called earlier, wondering when you were coming back in.”
Josh shrugged. He’d written out his schedule for the crew. Because of Mrs. G.’s illness, he’d been taking some personal leave from his duties as District Ranger for the Forestry Service of Tuolumne County. He would be going into the station in the morning, after he checked on Mrs. G.
He picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, Josh.”
His brows rose in surprise to hear the female voice on the other end of the line. “Rachel?” His heart contracted painfully in his chest. There could only be one reason she would call him. “Is Mrs. G…..?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “She’s holding her own.”
The tightness in his chest eased. He glanced at his father and son who both stared at him with anxious expressions. “Hold on,” he told Rachel. “She’s fine,” he said to his family. Both Griff and Rod sagged in relief.
Then Rod arched a brow. “Rachel Maguire?”
“Who’s that?” Griff questioned and moved to stand next to Josh, the top of his head reaching the middle of Josh’s chest.
Josh shook his head and pointed upward.
Griff groaned and shuffled out of the room. As for his father, Josh said, “Do you mind?”
Rod grinned. “Not at all.” And he sat back down in his recliner.
Josh rolled his eyes. Talking to Rachel on the phone while his father casually listened from his chair took him back to the past. But back then they’d had plenty to talk about—school, love, their future. The only thing they had in common now was Mrs. G.
“Sorry about that,” he said into the receiver as he turned his back to his father.
“That’s all right.” Her voice sounded hesitant. “Mom G. would like to see you in the morning.”
“I’d planned on coming by.”
“But she wanted me to call and make sure. She…uh…hmmm…well, she wants to see us together.”
Josh frowned. “Really?” He didn’t want to see Rachel again.
“Yes. I don’t know why, but I hope we can be civil to make her happy.”
“I’ve never been uncivil to you, Rachel.”
A moment of silence passed.
“Well, I mean, we could refrain from fighting. I—I want to apologize for earlier,” she said in a rush.
The corner of his mouth lifted. At least one part of her hadn’t changed. The old Rachel had always accepted responsibility for her actions.
“Forget it.” He didn’t need her apology. He thought about what she’d asked, then made a decision. “I’ll be there tomorrow morning and I can be friendly for Mrs. G.’s sake.”
“Excellent.” She sounded pleased, but he couldn’t be sure. “Goodbye, Josh.”
“Bye.” He slowly replaced the receiver. He hadn’t wanted to see her, but he couldn’t let Mrs. G. down. He’d tolerate Rachel if it killed him.
And when he thought about it, the best way to annihilate any feelings he harbored for Rachel was to be around the woman she’d become. She was so aloof and distant. Much different than she’d been in high school. Then she’d been open and friendly. Always looking for someone she could help. She’d needed to be of use.
Being a doctor must fulfill that need for her. But had becoming a doctor made her so cold? He supposed life in the big city could change a person, take warm people and turn them into an icy reflection of their former selves.
“You’re going to be friendly with Rachel, huh?” Rod broke into his thoughts.
Josh shrugged. “Mrs. G. wants to see us both.”
Rod looked pleased. “I might come with you.”
“Fine.” He didn’t want to discuss Rachel with his dad. Didn’t want to hear Rod’s opinion that he shouldn’t have let her slip out of his life. He’d had no choice. She was determined to go. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Josh turned to leave but stopped at Rod’s soft chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“I have a pretty good idea what Olivia is up to.”
“You want to let me in on the secret?”
Rod smacked his lips and grinned. “No. I’ll let this one play itself out.”
Josh frowned. His father and Mrs. G. were up to something. Rachel was the only girl Rod had ever approved of and Mrs. G., of course, loved her. But no amount of matchmaking was going to work. “You’re a nut.”
Rod wiggled his brows. “Takes one to know one.”
Josh smiled. He loved his father and was thankful he’d agreed to live with him and Griff when they moved into this house. “Dad, what am I going to do with you?”
Rod laughed. “Hey, don’t forget to call the station.”
“Thanks.”
“Sleep well, son. I have a feeling you’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
Josh shook his head in exasperation. He didn’t relish disappointing Mrs. G. and his father, but nothing could bring him and Rachel back together. Their needs, their wants in life were too different. Rachel wanted success, prestige and a position of power. He wanted a stable, secure life with a woman who loved him enough to commit to him.
And Rachel wasn’t that woman.

Rachel shielded her eyes against the sunlight streaming through the curtains of Mom G.’s hospital room. She blinked several times, trying to moisten her gritty eyes. She’d spent the night sitting beside Mom G.’s bed, too afraid to leave. She didn’t want to get a middle-of-the-night call or find an empty bed in the morning. By staying, Rachel hoped she could keep death from claiming Mom G.
She listened to Mom G.’s labored breathing. Helplessness swamped her, making her head pound and her chest hurt. There had to be something more she could do.
She heard the door open. Expecting Josh, she fortified her nerves against his powerful presence and slowly turned around. The sight of a tall, older gentleman dressed in faded jeans and a dark patterned flannel shirt sent surprised pleasure coursing through her.
“Rod,” she exclaimed softly. She glanced at Mom G., who still slept, then stood and went to the man who, for a time, had been the closest she’d ever come to having a father.
His infectious grin filled her with fondness. He hugged her for a long moment and she savored the steady comfort.
“Here, now.” He drew back to look at her. “It’s good to see you.”
“And it’s good to see you.” She noticed his hair had turned a very distinguished gray and the crinkles around the corners of his hazel eyes had deepened. “How are you?”
“As ornery as ever.”
“Some things never change,” she teased.
He looked past her toward the bed. “How’s she?”
“She had a rough night. The chemo took a lot of her strength.”
He shook his head. “Such a shame.”
“It is.” Rachel knew Mom G. would be going on to a better place, but she didn’t want her to go. She didn’t want to think about the hole Mom G.’s death would leave in her life. Even though they’d been physically apart, Rachel took strength from both the knowledge that Mom G. loved her and from her weekly phone calls. Mom G. had always been there for her.
“Olivia’s very proud of you, Rachel.”
His words brought her pleasure. Mom G. had always encouraged and supported her goals. But the little girl she kept locked inside shook with dread. She was scared to be alone. “What am I going to do, Rod?”
He hugged her close again. “What are we all going to do? She’s been a rock in all of our lives.”
Rachel nodded, remembering how fond Mom G. was of Rod. Rachel had always wondered if their relationship went beyond friendship. Neither would admit—at least not to anyone else—to anything deeper nor act on it.
Speculatively she glanced at Rod. “You two are close, aren’t you?”
His eyes twinkled despite an obvious sadness. “Yes, we are.”
“How close?”
“Close enough.” He winked.
“You…” A noise from the bed made her pause. Mom G.’s eyes were open.
“She’s awake.” Rachel breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful sleep hadn’t turned into a coma. Each time Mom G. closed her eyes, the chance she wouldn’t reopen them increased.
“She is indeed.” Rod sat next to the bed and took Mom G.’s hand in his. “Olivia, my dear. I’m glad to see you. I came by early yesterday but you were sound asleep.”
Mom G. smiled and her eyes glowed with affection. Rachel swallowed back the sadness that threatened to choke her. Mom G. and Rod obviously cared for one another, but now Mom G.’s illness was robbing them of their happiness.
“Time’s…short,” Mom G. said softly. “There’s much to do.”
Rod nodded. “Yes, Olivia. It’ll all work out, don’t you worry.”
Rachel had no idea what they were talking about, and felt like an intruder.
“Rachel’s…”
“Here,” Rod interjected.
Mom G. shifted her gaze and Rachel stepped forward. “I’m right here.”
“She’s all grown up, Rod. All grown up.”
Rachel savored the motherly words, tucking the tender feelings they evoked away in her heart for safekeeping.
Rod grinned. “That she is, my dear. And a doctor, to boot.”
The praise in Rod’s voice pleased Rachel.
For a brief space of time, Rod and Mom G. silently communicated. Rachel watched, growing decidedly uncomfortable. The look in Rod’s eyes as he gazed at Mom G. was more than affection.
He loved her.
A funny ache throbbed within Rachel’s chest.
She refused to call it yearning.
But even if it was, she wasn’t stepping off God’s chosen path for her life. No matter what the cost to her heart.
Wanting to give Mom G. and Rod some privacy, and needing a moment to cool her thoughts, Rachel went to the window. The dew on the needles of the pines glinted in the sunshine like little teardrops.
“Rachel, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?” Rod asked.
“Not at all.” Rachel headed for the door, grateful for the task.
“Cream and sugar,” Rod called after her.
She stopped at the nurses’ station and smiled at the four nurses who bustled about. “Where could I get a cup of coffee?”
“I’ll get you one,” said a red-haired nurse who looked vaguely familiar.
“Do I know you?” Rachel tried to remember where she’d seen the striking woman.
The nurse smiled. “My name’s Jamie. You were in my older brother’s class. Bob Forbes.”
“Okay, I remember him.” She smiled back, remembering the red-haired boy who’d been the class clown.
“I’ll be right back with your coffee, Rachel.” Jamie walked away.
“Cream and sugar, too, please,” Rachel called after the retreating nurse.
It was strange being in a place where people knew her. Not the doctor she’d become but the girl she’d been. That girl was gone, replaced by the professional woman who knew exactly what her life was meant to be. Giving hope and health to those who needed it. She never pretended to think she could save their minds or their souls. That wasn’t her calling.
But their bodies she could fix by making sure the care in the E.R. was better so no one else would needlessly lose a mom. Yet a wave of helplessness swept through her. The one person most important to her needed her skills as a doctor and she didn’t know how—She cut that thought off abruptly. She’d find a way to help Mom G. She had to.
Dr. Kessler came down the hall. “Dr. Maguire.”
She tensed. “Doctor.”
“I was hoping to see you before I made my rounds. We found some chaparral tea.”
“Good.” It may be a long shot but it was all she had.
“You realize the use of this tea is only effective when used regularly over a period of time.”
She shot him a hard glare. She didn’t need the reminder that time was an issue. “I’m well aware of the situation, Doctor.”
She gritted her teeth against the gentle, pitying look in his eyes.
“Here you go.” Jamie sailed up and handed her a disposable cup. Steam billowed from the milky, brown liquid.
“Thank you, Jamie. Doctor.” She headed back to Mom G.’s room. She opened the door and slowly walked in, hovering just inside the room. Her throat tightened. Rod leaned in close to Mom G., still holding her hand. They talked in quiet tones. Rachel stepped back, intending to give them more time, but her elbow bumped the wall, making a dull thud. Rod glanced at her, and the corner of his mouth lifted before he turned back to Mom G.
Rachel continued forward. As she approached the bed, she heard Rod say, “I will do my best, my dear. I promise.”
Mom G. nodded. “We have to try.”
Rod stood. “Here’s Rachel, back just in time. I have to take off, but I’ll return this evening.”
“Your coffee.”
“Thank you.” He took the cup and walked from the room.
“Such a nice man.” Mom G. stared after him.
“He is.” Rachel lifted a brow. “You and Rod have become close. You never said anything in your letters or phone calls.”
Mom G. smiled slightly and a blush brightened her pale cheeks. Rachel laughed, loving the life shining from Mom G.’s eyes. If only she could hold on to that.
“Where’s Josh?” Mom G. asked.
Rachel sat in the chair. “He said he’d be here.”
Mom G. took her hand. “I’m going to rest until he arrives. Please wake me.”
“Of course.”
Mom G. closed her eyes. Rachel listened, thankful Mom G. breathed easier than she had earlier, but she couldn’t shake the fear Mom G. might not reawaken.
Dropping her head onto the side of the bed, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. Lord, Your word says to count it all joy when we fall into various trials. This sickness is a trial that affects so many people. Mom G., Rod, Josh, me. Where’s the joy, Lord? Show me, teach me. I don’t understand.
The low beeping of the machines, combined with Mom G.’s soft breathing, lulled Rachel’s senses. Heart heavy with concern, she allowed herself to rest.

Josh pushed opened the door to Mrs. G.’s hospital room and stepped in. He stopped short when he saw Rachel sitting in the chair, her body bent forward and her head resting against the blue covers of the bed. He could see the steady rise and fall of the blankets over Mrs. G.
They were both resting. He started to leave, but found himself staring into Rachel’s crystal-blue gaze. She straightened and her black hair brushed loosely across her shoulders. She wore the clothes he’d seen her in yesterday. She hadn’t left and he doubted she’d had more than a few moments of rest.
She blinked several times. “Hi,” she said softly.
She sounded young and vulnerable, more like the girl he’d known. His heart twisted with longing. He pushed the unwanted emotion aside and told himself he felt sympathy for her for what was to come. Nothing else. “Where’s my dad?”
“He left.”
Josh frowned. “We came together, but he sent me to get coffee for him.”
Rachel smiled ruefully. “With cream and sugar.”
“Yes.” He smiled and held out one of the cups in his hand. “I brought you one, too.”
She stood and took the cup from him. Her hands shook slightly.
“Have you eaten?” He didn’t appreciate the sudden need to take care of her.
“No.” She sipped from the coffee cup.
He watched her press the cup to her mouth. He remembered kissing those lips so many years ago. Remembered her soft, pliant mouth beneath his, the way she’d felt in his arms.
Angry at the unwanted course of his thoughts, he averted his gaze. “You shouldn’t drink that on an empty stomach. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get some breakfast?”
She shook her head. “She wanted me to wake her when you got here.”
Even though Mrs. G. lay a few feet away, being this close to—this intimate with—Rachel troubled him. It was too easy to remember the past, to remember how he’d once loved her, how she’d looked at him with love in her blue eyes. Too easy to remember that she’d wanted to be a doctor more than she’d wanted to be with him. And being a doctor had changed her. The woman standing before him set his nerves on edge.
“I’ll let you do the honors.” He took her cup and set it, along with his own, on the side table.
Rachel lay a hand on Mrs. G.’s shoulder. “Mom G., Josh is here.”
Mrs. G. stirred. Her eyelids fluttered.
Josh’s chest tightened. Mrs. G. had been such a godsend to him and his family. They’d kept in touch after Rachel left town, and when Andrea died, Mrs. G. had insisted on keeping Griff while Josh had dealt with the funeral arrangements. Then she’d insisted on continuing to care for his son while he worked. She’d become the grandmother that Griff needed.
And now they were losing her. Josh didn’t know if his heart could take much more loss, and he worried what the loss would do to his son.
Mrs. G.’s eyes opened fully and she smiled weakly. “Thank you, Josh, for coming.”
Josh moved closer. “Of course I’m here. I’ll always be here,” he said softly. From the corner of his eye he saw Rachel glance at him.
“We’re both here, Mom G.,” she said softly.
Mrs. G. lifted her hand from the bed and held it out. Rachel immediately wrapped her own hand around Mrs. G.’s.
“Josh.” Mrs. G.’s intent was clear. He hesitated before he slowly lifted his own hand and placed it over Rachel’s. He kept his gaze trained on Mrs. G. and ignored the cool hand beneath his palm.
“I need a promise from…you both.”
He glanced at Rachel. Her gaze met his. The wariness in her eyes reflected his own. Whatever Mrs.G. wanted, they would do everything in their power to make it happen.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, Rachel nodded imperceptibly and turned to Mrs. G. “Yes, of course, we’ll promise you anything.”
“Of course.” Josh murmured his agreement.
His brows drew slightly together as he met the older woman’s gaze. A mischievous glint twinkled in Mrs.G.’s eyes. Josh dismissed it as a trick of the light. Then she said, “Promise me that you two will take care of each other when I’m gone.”
Josh stilled. Mischief nothing, the woman was bent on matchmaking! And he’d just given his word he’d do anything for her.
He hoped that wasn’t a mistake he’d come to regret.

Chapter Four
Dismay sat heavy on Josh’s chest, but he saw the fledgling hope in Mrs. G.’s expression and determination set in. He would do anything it took to fulfill her dying wish.
Hers would be one grave he wouldn’t stand over with regret.
His gaze slid to Rachel. A slow red stain spread over her cheeks. She shook herself, glanced at him with wide, panicked eyes and then began to sputter, “Mom G. I…can’t—You can’t possibly expect…”
Josh tightened his fingers around Rachel’s.
She ignored him. “We can’t make a promise like that.”
Josh applied more pressure. “Rachel, we can do this,” he said with deliberate slowness.
Her head snapped toward him, her expression thunderous. “What?”
He was not going to argue with her in front of Mrs. G. It was bad enough that she was balking. He refused to subject Mrs. G. to the tempest that was about to explode. Because, like it or not, he was going to make sure she agreed. He couldn’t let her live with the kind of regret that plagued him. He lifted Rachel’s hand away from Mrs. G.’s. “We need to discuss this outside.”
Rachel stared at him mutinously. “There’s nothing to discuss. It can’t be done. I live thousands of miles away, Josh.”
He smiled tightly at Mrs. G. “We’ll be right back.” He tugged on Rachel’s hand. She pulled against him but finally stood and jerked her hand from his grasp.
“Fine,” she snapped, her expression softening as she looked at Mrs. G. “You’ll be okay?”
Mrs. G. blinked. “Of course.”
Rachel strode out of the room. Josh watched her go. She’d become quite a formidable woman. He normally chose to defuse confrontational situations long before they came to a head. That skill made him a good manager of the forestry team he was responsible for. But he found a part of himself looking forward to seeing the sparks fly, to being a part of the controlled energy that was Rachel.
Filled with anticipation, he winked at Mrs. G. before following in Rachel’s wake, confident he could manage her.

Rachel’s head was going to explode. Anger raged, pounding at her temples. She couldn’t make such a promise. She wouldn’t lie to Mom G. How dare Josh even consider promising something he had no intention of fulfilling?
She rubbed at her temples, trying for a calm that was proving elusive. She could control her emotions. She was a doctor, a professional, standing in a hospital corridor, after all. She wouldn’t cause a scene.
But the second Josh stepped into the hall radiating confidence, she whirled on him, her vow to remain calm pushed aside. “What was that all about? What are you trying to do?”
Rachel paced away from Josh in an effort to cool her temper.
Unruffled, he stated, “Trying to make Mrs. G. happy.”
She screeched to a halt. “By lying to her? You think that’s going to make her happy? Is your conscience out to lunch?”
Josh held up a hand. “Whoa, you need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” She didn’t appreciate him pointing out the obvious. Unfortunately her reserve of cool and collected was suddenly lacking. And it was Josh’s fault. Something about the man he’d become caused her to lose her self-restraint. She didn’t like being this out of sorts. It was too much; she felt too vulnerable.
She needed calm. She needed to breathe. In slow, out slow, find the calm. “We can’t make that promise.”
The dark green of his button-down shirt magnified the intent look in his eyes. “We said we’d do anything for her.”
“But…not this. Are you out of your mind?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to live regretting that I didn’t do everything I could to make Mrs. G. happy.”
His words struck her with sharp bites of guilt. “I want to make her happy, too, but I can’t do this.”
His expression hardened. “How difficult would it be for you to set your feelings aside for a moment and do something for her?”
She drew back, stung. “I’m not being selfish, Josh. I’m being realistic.”
His look said he didn’t believe her.
“Think for a second, Josh.” Her hand gesturing wildly. “Your life’s here. My life’s in Chicago. And I’m leaving as soon as Mom—”
She froze. She widened her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand as she realized what she’d almost said. A tremor assaulted her body. The reality of the situation hit her full force. No matter how good the medical care, Mom G. was going to die. Sooner rather than later.
Just like her mother had.
No! This was different. Her mother hadn’t received the best care possible. Mistakes had been made, inadequate procedures followed. None of that was happening with Mom G. It was God’s decision. He was in control.
She squeezed her eyes tight and fought the tears building, clogging her throat. She didn’t want Josh to see her like this. She hated this feeling of utter helplessness.
God, I need you. I can’t face this on my own.
She heard Josh let out an exasperated groan. Then his arms came around her, pulling her to his chest. She stiffened in shock. The odd combination of his woodsy-and-spice scent filled her head, evoking images of Christmastime. She longed to melt into his big broad chest and partake of the comfort being offered.
She didn’t want his comfort. It hurt too much because it came from pity, not affection, but she couldn’t deny the warmth soaking her through, making her conscious of every point of contact between them, every bunching muscle, every beat of his heart.
She swallowed her tears and broke away from him before she gave in to the attraction building between them.
Bereft of his warmth, she wrapped her arms around her middle. Focus, Rachel, focus. “What had Mom G. asked us to promise? To take care of each other. It wasn’t like she was asking us to get married.”
“Right.” Josh’s voice drew her attention.
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. “But how?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure out a way.”
She stared down the hall. Maybe Josh had a point. It could be done. Through telephone calls, Christmas cards, e-mail. They could take care of each other long-distance. In ways that wouldn’t wreak havoc on her life. Or his.
She straightened to her full height, still only barely reaching his shoulders. “You’re right. We’ll find a way. We can do this.”
He smiled approvingly. “Yes, we can.”
She resented how good his approval felt.
As Rachel swept by him and back into Mrs. G.’s room, Josh took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing Rachel almost shatter. It tore him up inside to know she hadn’t completely accepted the eventuality of Mrs. G.’s death. Rachel was trying so hard to be strong. Behind her controlled exterior was a woman struggling against death and grief. He understood why Mrs. G. wanted his promise. When Mrs. G. died, Rachel was going to need an anchor to hold on to because the arctic storm brewing within her would be overwhelming. Whether he liked it or not, he would be there for Rachel because he’d promised.

Mom G. stared up at Rachel with anxious eyes. Taking her hand, Rachel sought to reassure her. “We promise to take care of each other.” Rachel glanced at Josh next to her. His smile was pensive.
“Thank heaven.” Mom G. relaxed into the pillow for a moment and then looked at them with worried eyes. “I need one more thing from you both.”
Rachel braced herself. What more could she want from them? What more anguish would she have to suffer in Josh’s presence?
Josh chuckled softly. “Whatever you need, Mrs. G.”
“Rachel, you need to eat. You’re too thin. Josh take her to get something to eat.”
The motherly words touched Rachel deeply. “I’m okay, really.”
“Please, Josh, make her go,” Mom G. implored.
Rachel had had enough of Josh, thank you very much. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I don’t want you to get sick, honey.”
A flutter of panic hit Rachel. What if she left and Mom G. died before she returned? Rachel knew she couldn’t live with that. “Josh can bring something here.”
“I want to sleep, Rachel. I’ll rest better knowing you’re letting Josh take care of you. As you promised.”
Josh reached out and took her hand. She swallowed back the shiver of comfort in his heated touch. “Rachel, you need a break. We’ll be back in a hour.”
“Anything could happen in an hour,” she whispered and pulled her hand free. Tears once again burned at the edges of her eyes.
“Do you trust God?”
She gazed into his warm hazel eyes. “Of course.” Her answer was automatic. There was no question in her mind she trusted God. He’d seen her through so much and had given her the direction for her life.
Josh placed his hand on her shoulder; heat spread out from the point of contact. “Then let’s entrust her to His care and ask for Him not to take her until you’ve returned.”
This was a test of her faith and she hated the sudden hesitation gripping her soul. She wanted to know where Josh stood. Had his faith survived the death of his wife? “Is your faith that strong?”
Something akin to anguish flittered across his face, but then it was gone, replaced by determination. “Right now it is.”
She had her answer. His relationship with Christ had suffered. She understood. To lose the one you loved so suddenly, without having a chance to say goodbye, would be enough to rock the most solid of foundations.
Mom G. squeezed her fingers. The weight of Josh’s hand on her shoulder imprinted her skin. Her gaze darted between the two. Did she have enough faith? A still, quiet moment slipped by and Rachel was filled with a comforting peace. She nodded. Please, God, let there be time for me to say goodbye.
Rachel listened to Josh’s words of prayer, felt them reverberate within her heart, filling her with comfort she gladly accepted. She’d always loved the sound of his resonant voice, could listen to him talk for hours. Time had only deepened the timbre, matured it in a way that was very appealing. And his words of faith were a balm to her weary soul.
“Thank you, Josh,” Rachel murmured.
“Shall we?” He gestured toward the door.
Rachel kissed Mom G. goodbye, noting how drawn and exhausted she looked. Mom G. had expended a great deal of energy in securing the promise she wanted. It made Rachel more determined to comply.
Josh led the way out of the room. Rachel walked to the nurses’ station, where she gave them her beeper number and elicited a promise from Jamie to make sure Mom G. received some tea before her next chemo session, which she was scheduled for within the hour.
“Everything okay?” Josh asked as they boarded the elevator.
“Yes.” She followed him to the cafeteria.
Josh held open the door for her to pass through. The rattle of dishes and the rumble of voices greeted them. In one corner, a young mother spoon-fed a fussy toddler, while doctors and nurses, their white coats or green scrubs distinguishable, relaxed at several tables.
With metal trays in hand, Rachel and Josh went through the food line.
Even though it was only midmorning, Rachel chose a salad. She didn’t want the heaviness of breakfast fare. Josh picked a hamburger and fries. “That food’s going to sit in your stomach like a rock,” she commented.
He grinned. “I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”
“Apparently.”
At the cashier, Josh insisted on paying. Though she was used to taking care of herself, Rachel didn’t argue. She needed to think about something else. Anything. She searched her mind for a topic of conversation, but unfortunately with Josh, all they had was the past.
“Whatever happened to your ‘65 Chevy?” she asked as they took their seats at a table near the floor-to-ceiling window. The warm sun fell on her back and she shrugged out of her jacket.
“I still have her.” Josh sat opposite her.
“She runs? You were always tinkering with the engine, replacing one thing or another.”
The corner of Josh’s mouth twitched. “Sort of.”
“Do you ever drive her out to the lake?” Now why’d she go and ask that? Cherry Lake had been a special place for them. A place to go when the world was too hectic and intrusive. It occurred to her that there at the lake, alone with Josh, she’d never experienced that trapped, restless sensation. She mentally shrugged the notion off, attributing the lack of restlessness to being a teenager in love.
Any semblance of a smile vanished from his face. “No,” came the terse answer.
Silence, dense and thick, filled the air between them.
Pushing her Cobb salad around with her fork, she searched for a neutral topic. “Does your dad still work for the forestry service?”
“He’s semiretired.” He picked up his hamburger and took a bite.
“That’s nice for him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Frustrated that he wasn’t being cooperative with small talk, she watched him drown his French fries in ketchup. The red gooey mess didn’t look healthy.
She ate slowly, her body recognizing the need for sustenance, but her mind rebelled, urging her back to Mom G. After a long moment of silence she tried again. “And you, Josh? What do you do?”
“I’m a ranger.”
“You are?” Surprise echoed in her voice.
He glanced at her sharply. “I wouldn’t lie.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest you would.” She softened her voice. “You used to talk about going into the forestry service. I didn’t think…” She trailed off, not wanting to offend him.
“You didn’t think I would.” He sounded amused.
“No, truth be told, I figured when you married Andrea you’d settle into a nine-to-five job and have a picture-perfect life.” She’d imagined him living the fantasy. The fantasy they’d dreamed together those days long ago. An old Victorian house, the dog, the picket fence. Those were the things they’d wanted.
Only, as a doctor she didn’t fit into his cookie-cutter world and she couldn’t do what needed to be done from this hospital. The place where her mother had died.
Rachel noticed the ticking muscle along Josh’s strong jaw. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather not talk about Andrea, I understand.”
“Do you?”
The intensity in his voice made her wince. He was still grieving for his wife but she didn’t know what to say or do to help him. The usual words of condolence she’d deliver to a family member of a patient didn’t seem appropriate here. This was Josh.
“Dr. Maguire, Josh.” Dr. Kessler approached the table.
“Doctor,” Josh said.
Rachel rose, gripping the edge of the table, panic pounding in her veins. “Mom G.?”
Dr. Kessler held up a reassuring hand. “I’m on my way to see her. Just stopped in to grab a coffee.”
She released her white-knuckled grip and sat down again. Josh reached across and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Comforted by his gesture, she gave him a grateful smile before slipping her hand away. His touch was too warm, too welcome. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of wanting his touch because wanting something she couldn’t have was not her style.
“Dr. Maguire, our E.R. attending was very excited to learn you were here. I hope you’ll take a moment and stop by the E.R. to introduce yourself.”
Fat chance. She wasn’t going anywhere near that E.R. Too many of her nightmares involved that place. Careful to keep her thoughts from showing, she smiled. “If I have time.”
Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, Dr. Kessler’s eyes showed disappointment. “I’ll check on Olivia now.”
Rachel watched the doctor leave. “What do you think of him?”
“He’s a good doctor.”
Josh’s tone rang with certainty and she accepted his pronouncement.
She finished the last of her salad, then picked up her tray and stood. “I’m going back upstairs now.”
Josh rose, taking her tray from her. “I’ve got it.” He took their trays and deposited them in the dirty dish bin before coming back to stand beside her. “We could go down to the emergency room. We haven’t been gone very long.”
Slipping her jacket back over her silk, short-sleeve top, Rachel shook her head. “I’m not here to work.”
He arched a brow. “Too small-town for you?”
“No. I wouldn’t be able to stay focused.”
“Right. Focused.”
The beeper attached to Rachel’s waistband sent a shrill alarm ringing through the cafeteria. Her heart slammed against her chest. Mom G. Rachel couldn’t make her feet move; panic gripped her, clogging her throat. Josh moved to her side, his big, warm hand cradling her elbow. “Josh, Mom G….”
“Let’s go.” The urgency in his tone clutched at her throat. She gratefully leaned on him as he propelled her out of the cafeteria and through the hospital.
Rachel and Josh stepped off the elevator and onto the fifth floor and sprinted down the corridor to Mom G.’s room. They skidded to a halt as a nurse emerged out the door.
“Is she…?” Rachel couldn’t say the words.
The nurse smiled at her kindly. “She’s waiting for you.”
“Oh, thank you, God,” Rachel breathed out. She swept past the nurse and into the room, aware that Josh followed closely behind.
Dr. Kessler stood at the foot of the bed, writing on the chart. He turned as Rachel approached. There was relief in his sympathetic eyes. “Her vitals are erratic. She’s slipping away fast. It’ll be only a matter of hours.”
A heaviness settled on Rachel as she moved to the side of the bed and took Mom G.’s hand.
Mom G. stirred and opened her eyes. Her gaze focused on Rachel. “I love you.”
Rachel swallowed the huge, burning lump in her throat and tried to smile, but could only manage a slight lifting of the corners of her mouth. Agony and grief gnarled in her heart. “I love you.”
“You’re my daughter. And I thank God every day that He brought you into my life.” Her voice was weak, strained with the effort to talk.
Rachel let the tears slipping down her cheeks fall into her lap. She couldn’t fight the pain of losing the only person who really cared about her.
“Rachel, happiness lies beyond what you think’s possible. It’s there waiting for you. You only have to have faith.”
“I don’t want you to leave me,” Rachel whispered, shuddering with the intensity of her grief.
Mom G.’s grip tightened ever so slightly. “It’s time for me to go be with my Savior. I’ve had a good life.” She shifted her gaze away from Rachel. “Josh, you’ll keep your promise?”
Josh’s deep voice filled the room. “Yes, I promise.”
Mom G. nodded and then seemed to shrink within herself.
Rachel pressed Mom G.’s hand to her cheek. Wanting to hang on, to somehow, with the force of her love, keep her from slipping away.
“I’ll wait for you in heaven.” Mom G. breathed the words with a smile and then her eyes closed.
Rachel refused to budge from Mom G.’s side. The hospital staff went about their business and Josh pulled up a chair beside her. Even though he didn’t touch her, she felt his presence like a soft covering. Two hours ticked by in agonizing slowness as Mom. G’s breathing slowed to small hiccups of air.
Mom G.’s heartbeat fell, then stopped. Machines sounded a strident warning. Rachel instinctively reacted by rising, ready to begin resuscitation. She looked wildly at the others filing into the room. Everyone stood quietly by as Mom G.’s life ebbed away. “Why aren’t you doing something?” she sobbed. “Let’s bring her back!”
Dr. Kessler stepped forward and lay a gentle but firm hand on her arm. “She has a standing DNR. She was in great pain. She wanted to go.”
Rachel looked down at her mother. Peaceful was the only word she could use to describe her. She was at peace with God.
Slowly Rachel sat back in the chair. A cold numbness seeped into her heart, spreading throughout her body. The two most important people in the world—her mother and Mom G.—had left her behind.
The weight of Josh’s hand on her shoulder brought a fraction of solace to her restless thoughts. But that was an illusion, she reminded herself. A momentary respite from the grief welling up inside.
As soon as possible, she would return to her life and Josh would stay here.
Now she was truly alone on this earth.

Rachel sat near the window and surveyed the crowded church reception room. Among the various flower arrangements and tables filled with food, there were so many people. So many lives touched by Mom G. Some of the faces she recognized, others were new to her. Everyone had expressed his or her grief over Mom G.’s passing and then wandered off to talk among themselves.
Her gaze dropped to the taupe carpet and the polite smile she’d worn all day faltered. She was out of place among these people. Without Mom G. she didn’t belong.
A slight film of dust covered her black pumps. Though she’d numbly stood by the grave with eyes blurry from tears, the graveside service had been beautiful. Pastor Larkin had delivered a lovely eulogy and Josh had spoken, giving a sentimental testament to Mom G.’s memory.
He’d grown so close to Mom G. while Rachel had been so far away. She was glad the funeral was over. After the reception, she would meet with the lawyer, Mr. Finley, to discuss Mom G.’s estate and then she wouldn’t have any reason to stay. She’d be free to return to the life she’d carved out for herself, the life God wanted for her. Strangely there was no peace in that thought.
Constrained laughter caught her attention and she looked up. Across the room Josh held a captivated audience as he talked.
She sighed. He looked handsome in his dark navy suit and tie, looking more like he belonged in a boardroom than out fighting fires. He stood tall and carried himself with a confidence that she envied. He was a part of these people. He belonged here. She didn’t.
A young boy moved to stand beside Josh. Shock momentarily wiped away the numb ambivalence that had taken ahold of her the moment Mom G. died. Rachel’s heart pounded as she looked from the boy to Josh and back to the boy.
Even as Josh put his arm around the child and hugged him, Rachel realized that this boy with his light-colored hair and expressive eyes could only be Josh’s son. The “they” Mom G. had been talking about.
The child could have been her son.
She blinked and turned to stare out the window at the little town of Sonora. The quaint, turn-of-the-century homes, the cute little café that hadn’t been there when she’d lived in the town and the gas station where Josh had worked during high school turned blurry through fresh tears.
Josh had a son. Why hadn’t Josh mentioned him?
Why did she care?
She realized she didn’t know that much about Josh and his life. She didn’t want to know, she told herself. She couldn’t change the past, could only accept it.
There was so much to accept.
The quicker she left Sonora and the memories behind, the easier the past would be to accept—and forget.

Chapter Five
Josh hugged his son close. He was grateful his father had had the foresight to take Griff to the hospital before school the day before Mrs. G. died. He hated to think of the pain Griff would have suffered had he not had the chance to say goodbye to the woman who had helped raise him.
Thankfully Rachel had been able to say goodbye, too. He scanned the crowd. He’d seen her earlier talking with Mr. and Mrs. Poe, then he’d lost sight of her.
She was putting on a good show of strength. Though her complexion was ghostly pale and her eyes were a little glazed, she’d smiled and moved gracefully through the funeral service and the reception.
She looked very mature and womanly in her black tailored suit with her hair pulled up into a fancy twist. When they’d talked briefly at the cemetery, she’d been distant and polite, but he could see by the tiny lines bracketing her mouth and the way she had to blink constantly to fight tears, that she was struggling to keep her composure.
Where was she? He frowned. She shouldn’t have to deal with her grief alone. He started to usher his son toward the door in search of Rachel when he saw her sitting by the window. She looked composed and serene, but he knew inside she had to be crumbling. He steered Griff toward the window.
As they approached, she turned and he saw a flicker of an emotion he couldn’t identify in her eyes. But then it was gone and she smiled with distant, polite interest.
“Rachel, I’d like you to meet my son, Griff. Griff, this is Rachel Maguire.”
Rachel held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Griff.”
Griff took her hand. “You’re in the picture with my dad at Mrs. G.’s house.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Yes, I am. How did you know?”
“Mrs. G. takes care of me when Dad and Grandpa work.”
Rachel fought the burning behind her eyes at the boy’s use of the present tense. She could only imagine the grief the child would suffer when he realized that Mom G. wasn’t coming back.
Josh cleared his throat. She saw the same concern in his eyes.
“When you’re ready to leave, let me know and we’ll give you a ride to your hotel,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary.” She didn’t want to rely on anyone, especially Josh, for anything.
He gave her a pointed look. “Yes, it is.”
Annoyance arced though her. Their promise to Mom G. didn’t include his services as chauffeur.
He set his jaw and grated out a warning, “Rachel.”
From across the room, Rod called out Josh’s name.
Rachel turned her attention to Griff. “So who’s your favorite baseball team?”
“The Mariners.”
“Seattle fan, huh?” She nodded sagely. “I’m a Cubs fan myself.”
“They’re in Chicago.”
Rachel laughed softly. “That’s right, they are.”
Josh placed a hand on Griff’s shoulder. “Come on, Griff. Let’s give Rachel some space. Let’s go find Grandpa.”
Griff gestured with his thumb. “He’s over there.”
“I know he’s over there, son. I need you to come with me. We’ll come back and take Rachel home when she’s ready.”
Rachel ground her teeth, but didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t argue with Josh in front of his son.
“Aw, Dad. I wanna stay here and talk to her.”
“He can hang with me.” Rachel blinked up at Josh, half expecting him to say no way.
“Okay. Then we’ll take you home,” he said firmly.
Their promise didn’t give him a license to try to control her, but she didn’t have the energy to point that out to him. “Fine.”
Josh nodded and moved away, sapping the air of its heat and leaving her chilled.
“I have a baseball card collection.”
Rachel turned her attention back to Griff. “You do?” An unfamiliar yearning crowded her senses. She supposed she was drawn to him because this boy was so like his father.
“It used to be Dad’s, but he gave it to me. Now I collect them.”
“How old are you, Griff?”
“I’m eight.”
Rachel absorbed that information with a bit of shock. Josh and Andrea had waited before having a child. She’d expected them to start a family right away because that was what he’d wanted. “You look like your dad.”
Griff grinned. “Everybody says that.”
“I see your mother in you, too.” His hair was more the color of Andrea’s and the shape of his nose favored her, as well.
“You knew my mom?”
Rachel smiled compassionately. “We all went to high school together.”
“What was she like?”
She blinked. “Don’t you remember her?”
He shook his head. “She died in a car accident when I was a baby.”
This news carried the weight of a punch to the solar plexus. Andrea had died nearly eight years ago. Rachel had assumed because Josh was still grieving that she’d died fairly recently.
Griff had grown up without a mother. Josh had raised his son from infancy all by himself. She had no doubts that Rod helped, but that Josh took on the responsibility made her admire him in a way she hadn’t before. And made her ache for both Josh and his son. Ached for what they’d lost.
“Why are you crying?”
Rachel wiped at the tear coursing down her cheek and gave a shaky laugh. “I…don’t know.”
“Are you sad because Mrs. G. died?”
She nodded, surprised and relieved he understood that Mom G. was gone. She’d underestimated the child.
“She’s in a better place now, where there’s no pain.”
“Did your daddy tell you that?”
“Yes. Mrs. G.’s in heaven with my mom.”
Rachel hurt for this little boy, for what he’d miss. She hurt for herself, for the hole Mom G. left in her life. She hurt for Josh.
In an unfamiliar moment of need, Rachel hugged the boy. He smelled clean, like sunshine and fresh air. And when his little arms wrapped around her neck, she couldn’t stop the sob that broke free.
“Shh, its okay,” Griff said, his voice so grown up, so like Josh’s.
Rachel forced herself to let go. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
Griff cocked his head to one side. “Why?”
“You don’t know me.”
“Sure I do. You’re Mrs. G.’s daughter. She talked about you all the time.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Did she?”
“Yep. Hey, will you come to church tomorrow?”
That the next day would be Sunday hit her like a blast of cold air. Her normally ordered and scheduled life was in disarray. With all the emotional stress of the past few days, she’d lost track of time. Attending a church service would be soothing. Josh would be there, but she could handle that. “Yes, I will.”
“Will you sit with us?”
Taken aback by the invitation, she struggled for an answer. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”
“Aw, that usually means no. Please? You can sit next to me.”
“Well…” She bit her lip. She didn’t want to disappoint Griff, but…
“Griff, don’t badger her.” Josh’s voice interrupted her thoughts and warmed her senses.
“He’s not badgering me,” she said.
“But he will until you say yes,” he countered with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
“Aw, Dad.”
Josh raised a brow and Griff rolled his eyes. Rachel smiled at the father-son exchange. Josh was a good father. His love for his son was evident in the way he looked at the boy, the way he displayed affection to Griff so freely. She’d always known Josh would be a good dad.
She sighed, feeling suddenly more alone and lonely than she’d felt in years. Josh had his son; she had no one. But she’d made her choice. A family wasn’t part of her world, couldn’t be a part of her world. Her job came first, would always come first. She doubted any man would accept that.
“You look tired,” Josh said abruptly. “We should take you to the hotel.”
Rachel stood. “You really don’t have to do that. I’m sure Mr. Finley can take me there.” She glanced around for the balding lawyer.
“No, we will,” he stated. “Mr. Finley can stop by later after you’ve had a chance to rest.”
She didn’t like being told how she felt. “I’m not tired.”
His expression became speculative and his tone softened. “Humor me, okay? Let us take you.”
Griff slipped his hand into hers. “You can sit with me.”
“Now how can you refuse an offer like that?” Josh asked.
She was sunk. How could she refuse Griff anything?
But Josh was another story. She couldn’t decipher what she felt for him. The confusion left her wary and upset.
She wanted to go back to Chicago, far away from Josh and the jumbled mess of emotions he so easily stirred.
“Fine,” she relented, only to have her nerves strung taut by the pleased look on Josh’s face. Pleasing him shouldn’t feel so good.

The tall, white-tipped, pointed steeple of the historic Red Church, its red paint gleaming in bright contrast to the clear blue sky, rose high above the maple and oak trees in the parklike setting of the church grounds. White-painted woodwork outlined beautifully etched stained-glass windows. The melodic strain of the church organ drifted out with the people as they exited through the open, wide double doors.
Rachel made her way toward the street, intent on walking back to her hotel without being waylaid by Josh.
The sound of pounding feet behind her drew her attention. She turned to see Griff skid to a halt before grabbing her hand. “Will you go get ice cream with us?”
Rachel laughed. “Don’t you mean lunch?”
Griff shook his head. “Nope, ice cream.”
His little face beamed and she felt tightness in her chest she’d never experienced before. He looked so adorable in his navy slacks with a checkered button-down shirt coming untucked at the waist.
She glanced up as Josh approached. His tawny hair was combed back and the green stripe in his tie brought out the green in his eyes. A warm flush flowed over her skin. “Ice cream after church?” she asked.
He shrugged sheepishly. “It’s tradition.”
“Will you come? Will you, huh?” Griff tugged on her hand.
“I don’t think so.” The numbness she’d allowed to seep into her soul after Mom G.’s passing seemed to retreat every time this child was present, only to be replaced with a tender yearning.
The new feeling worried her; confusion was not something she allowed herself. She always knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. Except when it came to Josh and now his son. She didn’t like the out-of-her-control feelings spinning around her heart and mind.
“Please,” he wheedled. “You can get any flavor you want. Right, Dad?”
“Sure she can.” She heard the challenge in his tone.
Rachel tried to discern what was going on inside Josh’s head. His expression gave nothing away. He looked decidedly…neutral, but his voice told her otherwise.
“I have things to do….” She stopped as Josh cocked one brow and Griff tightened his grip on her hand.
“You have all day to do stuff,” Griff complained. “Please, please? I really want you to come with us.”
Her mouth twisted in a half smile. She understood now what Josh had meant about being badgered. Ice cream did sound good, if only because it was a decadence she rarely indulged in. “Well…”
Griff pounced on her momentary indecision. “Yay!”
To Josh’s amused expression, she said, “What? I like ice cream. Besides, he can be convincing.”
“There’s no doubt about that.” Josh’s mouth quirked up at the corners. His gaze narrowed slightly. “I went to the hotel this morning to pick you up.”
“I told you not to,” she countered.
He smiled with wry humor. “I went anyway.”
She’d hoped he wouldn’t. She didn’t want him to think she’d deliberately stood him up. “I came early to spend a few moments of quiet before the service.”
He nodded, but she could tell he wasn’t truly convinced.
“Rachel?” a female voice called.
She turned to a see Jennifer Martin hurrying toward her. They’d been best friends in high school. Very different, not only in looks—Jennifer, blond and olive-skinned contrasted to Rachel’s own dark hair and fair skin—but also in temperament. Jennifer was outgoing and confident. Rachel had envied that about her friend.
They’d spoken briefly at the funeral, but Rachel hadn’t been in the mood to play catch-up on the locals. Jennifer had understood.
“Hi, Jennifer.”
To Rachel’s surprise, Jennifer hugged her again, as she had the day before at the graveside. Rachel wasn’t accustomed to displays of affection from anyone other than Mom G. And Josh. Though she couldn’t say that he’d held her at the hospital with any amount of affection, more like obligation. She stiffly hugged Jennifer back.
“We’re going to get ice cream,” Griff piped up.
Jennifer’s speculative gaze traveled from Griff, to Josh and then settled on Rachel. “That’s wonderful.”
Rachel smiled tightly.
“I’m so glad to see you here,” Jennifer said with a bright smile. “You’ll have to come for dinner and spend time with my family. I can’t wait for you to meet Paul and the kids.”
“That would be nice,” Rachel replied politely, feeling a pang of guilt. She wouldn’t be in town long enough to make it to her friend’s house, but now was not the time to say so.
“Good. Tonight then.”
Before Rachel could protest, Jennifer turned to Josh. “You two come along.”
“Sure, we’d love to,” Josh replied.
“Great. It’s settled then.” Jennifer beamed. “Why don’t you pick up Rachel and you can all come together?”
“We can do that.”
“Hey, wait,” Rachel interjected, hating the maddening way they were arranging her life. “I have things to do. I’ve got to organize Mom G.’s house, pack things up. I don’t have time for dinner. I…” Her protest faded as disappointment clouded Jennifer’s eyes.
Josh nudged her with his elbow and the look he gave her was a clear signal that she was blowing it and about to hurt Jennifer’s feelings. “I suppose I can take care of everything tomorrow. Dinner would be great. Thank you.”
The sparkle returned to Jennifer’s eyes. “I’ll see you all about five.”
“Can we go now?” Griff asked, and gave Rachel’s hand another tug.
Swallowing back the trepidation that she was getting in too deep, Rachel nodded and allowed Griff to pull her along.

The local ice-cream parlor was packed. The old-fashioned decor with its mahogany tables and soda fountain counter always gave Josh the impression of stepping back in time. He waved at several people and endured the assessing glances as he herded Griff and Rachel toward the back where he spotted a table being vacated by two teens. His gaze strayed over Rachel’s long floral skirt, appreciating the curves and the way the hem flirted with her trim ankles.
“I want strawberry with caramel sauce on a waffle cone,” Griff said as soon as his bottom hit the chair.
Josh raised a brow, not sure overloading his son on sugar was such a good idea.
“Awww.” A fleeting expression of disappointment crossed Griff’s face. “Okay, no sauce.”
“What? No sauce? Outrageous.” Rachel’s light laughter captured Josh’s gaze. She blinked up at him, her blue eyes full of merriment. “We gotta have caramel sauce on strawberry waffle cones.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Griff chimed in eagerly.
She raised her dark winged brows, daring Josh to say no. He didn’t want to spoil the air of fun surrounding them. “All right, caramel sauce it is.” So much for any semblance of nutrition.
Griff’s exuberance exploded in a loud “Yeah!”
Rachel’s pleased smile sent ripples of pleasure down Josh’s spine. Right now there wasn’t anything remotely cold in her gaze. Her eyes were alive and warm, drawing him in, making him wish for the impossible, wish for a way to be enough for this woman. And wish the three of them could be a family. His stomach dropped. Abruptly he stood and headed to the counter. What was he doing having Rachel join them as if they were a family?
She’s a friend, Josh admonished himself. Friends could have ice cream together. Friends could sit and have a decent conversation without their emotions being strung out to dry. Friends could laugh and enjoy each other’s company without risking heartbreak.
His mouth twisted wryly. He was going to have to find a different category in which to place Rachel, because “friend” wasn’t the correct one.
He paid and walked back to the table with three cones in hand.
At Rachel’s appraising look he muttered, “It sounded good.”
She laughed again. Josh liked her laugh. He’d forgotten how lyrical the sound could be, how her laugh wrapped around his senses. When they were in high school, Rachel’s laugh was what had gained his attention.
As they ate their cones, Josh saw a side of Rachel he’d thought long gone. Here was the girl he’d been so crazy about in high school but there was so much more to her now. She’d seen things, experienced things that had changed her, given her depths that hadn’t been there before.
Yet she was capable of an easy wit and gentle nature that made the time fly by. And Griff hung on every story coming from her lovely lips. How could his son help but fall for Rachel who at turns made Josh crazy with frustration and longing?
“Wow.” Rachel sighed. “That was delicious. I haven’t had ice cream in ages.”
“Why not?” asked Griff.
“You know, I don’t know.”
She looked genuinely puzzled. Like the thought of enjoying something as simple as ice cream was foreign to her. What was her life like in the big city of Chicago? Did she have many friends? What did she do for fun? Was there a man in her life?
That last thought stopped him cold. He had no business even caring, let alone being tempted to ask if she had someone waiting for her return. Even so, curiosity about every facet of Rachel’s life hounded him, made him want to know why the woman she’d become drew him to her despite his resistance.
They left the parlor and stepped into the sunshine. The parking lot hummed with the rumble of cars on the highway as well as the many entering and leaving the parking lot. The newly developed strip mall with the drugstore, bookstore, several specialty stores and two restaurants buzzed with activity as people meandered about, busy shopping and such on Sunday afternoon.
At the curb, Rachel touched his arm. “Thank you. I really enjoyed this morning.”
He stared into those crystal-blue eyes and found he couldn’t speak. The softness he saw spoke of caring and affection.
Her touch remained icy hot on his arm. An innocent touch that shouldn’t cause such a riot inside.
He shouldn’t let this get too personal, let the easy companionship of the morning cloud reality with wanting more from her. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from covering her hand with his.
He told himself she needed comfort whether she wanted to admit to the need or not. She’d lost Mrs. G. The least he could do was offer some solace. Her eyes widened, and he was gratified to see a bit of the same chaos he felt reflected in her gaze.
She slipped her hand away. He wasn’t surprised.
“We’ll take you back to the hotel.”
She drew herself up. The composed politeness he was beginning to detest settled over her lovely face and her petite form stiffened. Gone was the congenial woman of moments before. Now he was faced with the Rachel she’d become, the one he didn’t understand or know how to deal with.
“That would be fine. I have things that need to be taken care of before we go to Jennifer’s,” she said stiffly.
And he would be there to help her take care of things, because of his promise, not because he wanted to. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself of as he headed them out of the parking lot and drove them to the hotel.
When they arrived at the gray motel lodge consisting of ten single units, Rachel slid from the truck.
“Can I stay with you?” asked Griff, his little face full of eager anticipation.
Josh swallowed past the lump in his throat. His son’s eagerness to be with Rachel was touching.
Rachel smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “You’re going to get sick of me if we spend too much time together.”
“Naw, couldn’t happen,” Griff scoffed.
Josh ruffled Griff’s hair. “We’ll be seeing Rachel tonight, buddy.” He turned his attention to her. “I’ll be back in a while to help you with things.”
Her brows drew together. “You don’t need to.”
“But I will,” he insisted.
“Josh, I’m going to rest for a while. Please don’t come back until it’s time to leave for Jennifer’s.”
The edge to her tone conveyed the subtle message: You’re not wanted. Well, too bad. She was stuck with him for the duration of her stay because that’s what Mrs. G. wanted.
And he always honored his promises.
He chose to ignore the little voice in his head that wondered why it seemed like so much more. He didn’t want more. Rachel would be leaving soon and he’d be safe to remember that spending time with her was for now only. There could never be a forever for them.

Chapter Six
Rachel was ready and fresh from a nap when the boys arrived to pick her up. She was thankful Josh had honored her wishes and not returned earlier. She’d needed the time to get herself refocused on her mission: See to Mom G.’s affairs and then head back to Chicago. She’d made an appointment with Mr. Finley to go over the terms of the will and sign the necessary papers.
The drive to Jennifer’s went smoothly with Griff chattering away about an upcoming Boy Scout trip. The only trouble she had was keeping her pulse from racing every time she met Josh’s gaze. He’d grown more handsome since morning. He wore dark denim jeans, a light blue chambray shirt with a white T-shirt peeking out at the V where the first three buttons were undone.
She forced herself to look straight ahead at the scenery going by as he drove, in an effort to keep herself from overheating. They turned onto a gravel driveway where Josh pulled the truck to a stop beside a white minivan.
The large, yellow with white trim A-frame stood on the top of a rise on the north side of the county. The wraparound porch cluttered with a smattering of toys added charm to the house. The laughter of children reached her ears and she couldn’t tell if the sound came from inside the house or from the back where she’d glimpsed a lawn with a wooden swing set. On the evening breeze the scent of barbecue drifted past.
Griff bounded up the porch stairs while she and Josh followed at a more sedate pace.
“This is lovely,” Rachel commented as they stopped in front of the large oak door. Sandwiched between Josh, his muscular body pressing into her as he reached to press the doorbell, and Griff, his small hand tucked tightly within her grip, she felt oddly out of place, yet not. It was a very strange feeling.
Heavy footfalls approached the door and it opened to reveal a man, average in height, with dark, short hair and a clean-shaven face. She kept her surprise in check. This man with his pressed khakis and white button-down shirt didn’t match the type she’d always pictured with Jennifer. She’d figured Jennifer for the bohemian type of man willing to ramble around the world with his photojournalist wife.
The man smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Welcome. Hey, we’re still on for bowling next Saturday?”
Josh flexed his fingers. “You bet. We’ll whip up on Larry and Stan like last time.”
“That we will.” Paul ruffled Griff’s hair. “Griff, the kids are around somewhere. Why don’t you go find them?”
Griff didn’t needed to be asked twice. He disappeared from sight without a backward glance.
The man turned his attention to her. “You must be Rachel.”
“Yes. And you must be Paul.”
“I am indeed. Please, come in.”
He stepped aside, allowing Josh and Rachel to enter. The comfortable coziness of the house surrounded her with peace. Even the clutter of toys couldn’t diminish the rustic beauty of Jennifer’s home.
The dining area directly across from the entryway held a large oval table set for dinner, surrounded by high-backed chairs and a high chair. In the living room to her right, Rachel noted the furniture was an eclectic mix of old and new. A huge stone fireplace dominated one wall.
“Jen’s changing the baby. She’ll be out in a sec.”
“Great.” Baby? How many children did Jennifer have? Rachel tried to remember what Mom G. had said the last time she’d given her an update.
An enlarged photograph on the living room wall caught her attention. She moved to get a closer look. The peaceful serenity of the meadow scene struck a familiar chord. Bright yellow monkey flowers, indigenous in the Sierras, carpeted the sides of a meandering stream. The petals, which resembled the face of a grinning ape, were captured in vivid detail. Off in the distance mountains rose in majestic splendor meeting the sky in sharp lines.
“Jen took that.” Pride rang in Paul’s tone.
“That’s why it looked familiar. Jennifer and I spent many summer hours in that meadow.” She’d planned her life as a doctor and Jennifer had dreamed of photographing the world.
What happened to Jennifer’s dream?
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the quiet of the house as Griff and three children of various ages and genders came skidding to a halt in the archway of the living room.
“Kids.” Paul’s deep voice brought the children to attention. “Meet Mom’s friend Rachel. Introduce yourselves.”
The tallest boy, close to Griff’s age, smiled, showing even white teeth. “Hi, I’m Will.”
Next to him a girl, younger and smaller, peered at her through a veil of blond hair. “I’m Krissy.”
The youngest of the three, another girl with short, light brown curly hair blinked up at Rachel. “I’m Linnea. I’m four.” She held up four fingers.
“Hello, Will, Krissy and Linnea. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The three stared at her silently, assessing her. She smiled reassuringly, hoping she met with their approval.
“You’re pretty,” Linnea said, her little round face breaking into a grin.
Beside her Josh made a noise of agreement. When she met his gaze, his eyes were dancing with mirth.
Griff sidled up to her and took her hand.
“Okay, kids.” Paul clapped his hands. “Go wash up for dinner. We eat in five.”
The four kids turned and vanished down the hall just as Jennifer sailed in, carrying an infant on one hip.
“Hi. I’m so glad you could come.” Jennifer gave Rachel an one-armed hug. And then she gave Josh one.
“Me, too.” She hoped her friend didn’t hear her hesitancy. Though Rachel had worked with children often at the hospital, being in the midst of such a large brood was overwhelming. How did Jennifer juggle four kids?
“The barbecue’s just about ready,” Paul said. “It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
“Need some help?” offered Josh.
“Yeah, come on back.” Paul and Josh disappeared behind a swinging door.
“He cooks?” Rachel quipped.
“One of the perks of our marriage.” Jennifer studied her with curious intensity. “Josh is a really good cook, too.”
Hoping to distract Jennifer from the subject of Josh, Rachel held a hand out to the baby in Jennifer’s arms. The little angel wrapped a chubby hand around one finger and pulled it toward his mouth. “Who’s this?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure Rachel doesn’t want to become a pacifier.” Jennifer extracted Rachel’s finger from the child’s grip. “This is Bobby. He’s teething and everything goes in the mouth right now.”
“Hey, Bobby.” Rachel held out both hands. “May I?”
Surprise flickered in Jennifer’s eyes. “Of course.”
She passed the baby over and Rachel took him, loving the slight weight in her arms, enjoying the fresh, powdery scent coming from the baby’s soft, downy hair.
“You’re a natural,” Jennifer declared.
Rachel laughed. “I’m a doctor. I get to do this occasionally.”
“Dinner’s served,” Paul announced as he and Josh came through the swinging door carrying two large platters.
On cue the children raced down the hall and straight to their chairs. Griff took the empty seat next to Will. Rachel handed the baby back to Jennifer and then slowly moved to an empty chair. She sat with Jennifer on her right and Linnea on her left. Across from her sat Josh.
When Linnea’s hand slipped into hers, Rachel blinked with surprise, but then she realized that Jennifer’s hand was extended toward her. Around the table hands were held, forming a circle. Rachel took Jennifer’s hand, completing the ring. As Paul said the blessing, Rachel felt a stab of longing for Josh. For the family with him that would never be. She forced herself not to open her eyes and look at him.
The meal progressed in a chaotic whirl. Rachel fielded questions about her life and in turn she asked about their lives. She found out Paul was a bank executive, Will liked basketball as did Griff, Krissy was passionate about horses and Linnea loved to have tea parties.
The children all had something to say, and the volume rose as they talked over each other. Jennifer fed the baby with intermittent comments and Paul listened attentively to each person while exchanging loving glances with his wife.
Rachel glanced at Josh occasionally and would catch him staring at her, heating her with the almost tender expression in his eyes. She smiled at him and felt like such a fake. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of scene. Yet she couldn’t deny the stirrings of need for such a life, for a family to call her own. She watched Jennifer. Her friend’s eyes lit with joy and her smile came readily. Did she regret not pursuing her dreams? Could Rachel ever hope to have what her friend had?
Even if she could, that kind of life would never include Josh. His life was here; hers was in Chicago. A ribbon of sadness wound its way through her. She accepted it because she had no choice. She had to keep focused on God’s plan for her.
After the table was cleared, Paul hefted Bobby into his arms. “Why doesn’t Griff stay the night?” he asked Josh. “We have extra toothbrushes and he can sleep in a pair of Will’s pj’s.”
“Can I, Dad? Can I?” Griff hopped in excitement.
“Sure, I suppose that would be okay since school’s out now,” Josh replied, earning himself a big hug from Griff.
“I’ll get these rugrats settled in,” Paul said as he ushered the kids down the hall.
Josh’s gazed darted between the two women and then he called after Paul, “I’ll help you.”
“Chicken,” Rachel teased.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I know to retreat when I’m outnumbered.” He winked and then disappeared.
“Coffee or tea?” Jennifer asked once they were alone.
“Herbal tea would be nice.”
Rachel followed Jennifer into the kitchen. The white-tile countertops, light oak cabinetry and blue-and-white gingham window coverings created an inviting and soothing atmosphere. Rachel dismally recalled her own kitchen with its harvest-gold counters, bare walls and dark cabinets.
She watched Jennifer go about the task of making tea, her movements fluid and natural.
“How are you really doing, Rachel?”
The intensity in Jennifer’s voice grabbed Rachel’s attention. Sliding onto a stool at the wide, white-tiled island in the center of the kitchen, she replied, “I’m hanging in there.”
Jennifer’s clear eyes searched Rachel’s face. “I’m worried about you.”
Rachel tilted her head, touched by her concern. “Why?”
Jennifer took the remaining stool. “Nothing specific. I just want you to be happy.”
Rachel put her hand on her friend’s hand. “Are you happy?”
Jennifer’s smile brightened the room. “Yes.”
“But you gave up your dream.”
Confusion dampened Jennifer’s smile. “What dream was that?”
“Traveling the world, taking pictures.”
Jennifer laughed softly. “Dreams change.”
Rachel sat back with a frown. “But you were so set on photojournalism.”
Jennifer went to the stove. She was silent as she poured the tea. Carrying two mugs, she handed one to Rachel and then resumed her seat. “You know, I envied you so much when we were young. You always knew who you were and what you wanted out of life.”
Rachel wrapped a hand around her mug. “So did you.”
Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t have the conviction you did. It sounded good. Photojournalism.” She gave a wry laugh. “That would’ve been a lonely life. I was afraid to tell you my real dream was to have a family.”
“Why?”
Jennifer shrugged. “Your dream was so lofty, so ambitious. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
Stung by that revelation, all Rachel could say was “Wow.”
Something deep inside Rachel shifted and an uncomfortable, wholly strange sensation filled her. For a pregnant, silent moment she stared at her friend, then comprehension dawned. She was envious. Envious of Jennifer’s freedom to choose.
But Rachel had been given a choice once. Marry Josh or pursue medicine. She’d made the only choice she could.
A sharp pain banged behind Rachel’s eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
Her stirrings of longing for a family intensified, but along with that came the reality of what having a family for her would mean. The sacrifices and compromises that would need to be made. And the greatest sacrifice—the risk of loving and hurting.
Could she make those sacrifices, those compromises? And in doing so, would she be going against God’s plan? How could she ever make that choice?
“Rachel, are you okay?”
“I’m getting a bad headache.” She could hear the strain in her voice, feel the weight of her future crushing her heart.
Jennifer touched her arm. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
With practiced effort, Rachel forced the pain to recede. “It’s not you, Jennifer. It’s everything. Losing Mom G., seeing Josh…” The loneliness, the confusion. “Away from the hospital, I feel like I’m losing myself.”
“Or finding yourself.”
Jennifer’s verbal arrow quivered in the center of the bull’s-eye. “Maybe,” Rachel scoffed lightly, trying to ignore the well-aimed words.
“I watched Josh tonight. He cares for you.”
“Nothing could ever come of it. Josh and I both know that.”
“We both know what?” Josh asked as he and Paul entered the kitchen.
Heat flushed her cheeks. “Nothing.”
He arched a brow. “Looking pretty guilty for nothing.”
Rachel threw a panicked glance to Jennifer, looking for help.
Jennifer flipped her curls and smiled serenely. “Coffee or tea, gentlemen?”
Rachel was thankful the conversation turned to world news events. She relaxed as the light banter among the four of them stayed on subjects that didn’t include her and Josh in the same sentence.
She was painfully aware of Josh leaning against the counter beside her. His big hands toyed with a napkin, distracting her. He had nice strong hands. When he touched her hand, it seemed natural for her to curl her fingers around his.
“You tired?” he asked.
“Yeah, a little.” She stared into his eyes. He cares for you. She was getting in way too deep. She slipped her hand away.

They said their goodbyes to Griff, who was snuggled in a sleeping bag on the floor of Will’s room.
After promising Jennifer she’d see her again before leaving town, she followed Josh to the truck. He helped her in, his hand hot on her elbow, a shiver prickling her skin.
Alone with him in the truck, Rachel was acutely conscious of his masculine appeal. His muscled thighs and wide shoulders took up room, making her feel feminine in contrast. “It was a nice evening.”
“You surprised?” He slanted her a quick glance.
She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect.”
Josh pushed a button on the dash and soft country music filled the cab. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his profile. She liked the strength of his jaw and the line of his nose. Her gaze landed on his mouth, his lips. She clamped her jaw shut and turned away. She had no business fostering her attraction to him. No business wanting to kiss him.
They arrived at the hotel and Josh cut the engine. He shifted on the seat to face her, his arm stretching across the back of the seat, his big body leaning close. The tips of his fingers made little swirls on the top of her shoulder, setting off little sparks through her bloodstream. The light coming from the moon bathed his ruggedly handsome face in a soft glow, but couldn’t disguise the magnetic pull of his eyes. She clenched her fist to keep from reaching for him.
“I have to go to the station tomorrow but I’ll come back to help you at Mrs. G.’s as soon as I can.”
“That’s not necessary.” It wasn’t a good idea to keep seeing him when she knew it would only make leaving harder.
“I know it’s not. But I want to.” The husky timbre of his voice slid along her limbs like a smooth caress.
“What are we doing, Josh?” she asked, hoping to bring some perspective into the intimate atmosphere surrounding them.
His fingers stopped. He drew back slightly. “I don’t know. Taunting disaster?”
“I’d say so,” she whispered, striving for calmness when her heart was beating wildly.
His mouth quirked up in a self-effacing way as he stared out the front window for a heartbeat. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
He climbed out and came around the truck to open her door. As she slid out, his arm encircled her waist, drawing her up against the length of his solid body. She tipped her head and the smoldering blaze she saw in his gaze ignited an answering flame inside.
She felt exposed, vulnerable to the attraction coursing through her. But it was so much more than purely physical and it scared her because any way she examined it, they had no future together. Giving in to this thing arcing between them would only spawn more regret and heartache. She deliberately shut down her feelings and pulled away from him.
On unsteady legs she moved up the stairs of her unit and unlocked and opened the door. She turned to say good-night, expecting he’d be where she’d left him by the truck, but found herself staring at his broad chest. She quickly stepped inside, keeping the threshold between them.
“It’s best if you don’t come tomorrow, Josh.”
A look of implacable determination settled on his face. “Sleep well, Rachel. And I will see you tomorrow.”
She watched him stride away and climb back into his truck.
“Sleep well?” she muttered as she closed the door and listened to him drive away. He might as well have told her she could perform surgery with her arms tied behind her back.

Josh drove home on autopilot. He was all tied up inside. Hanging out at Jennifer and Paul’s with Rachel at his side—as if they were a couple, a family—had felt right and natural. He’d liked it way too much. He’d let it go to his head. Let his guard down and had been tempted to act on the attraction building between him and Rachel.
She’d relaxed a bit tonight, as she had earlier at the ice cream parlor. When she wasn’t all frosty and controlled, he really liked her.
But liking her and letting himself fall for her were two very different things. He was grateful she’d turned on the ice and reminded him how painful freezer burn could be. He’d be more careful in the future. He had a promise to fulfill, and as long as she was within his reach he’d do what he could to take care of her. But that’s as far as he could let it go without costing him his heart.

Chapter Seven
Rachel wiped perspiration from her brow with the corner of her oversize T-shirt and surveyed the pile of boxes filling the back of Mom G.’s car. Driving again had felt strange after living in a city where she utilized public transportation every day. She made a mental note to contact Pastor Larkin and see if he knew of a family in need to whom she could donate Mom G.’s car.
“That should do it,” she told the grocery clerk who’d come out to help.
“All right, you have a good day. And if you need any more boxes, you’re welcome to come back and get them.” The young man smiled and disappeared back into the grocery store.
She closed the back hatch and moved around Mom G.’s station wagon to the driver’s side. Thankfully she’d left the windows down. The high sun raged like an inferno, letting everyone know that summer had officially arrived in the Sierras.
Driving along the pine-tree-lined streets, seeing the houses of those she’d once called neighbors, Rachel shrugged off the feeling of isolation. This wasn’t her life and this wasn’t how she wanted to live. But as she pulled into the driveway of Mom G.’s ranch-style house, a wave of loneliness swept through her and she realized with a start that the sensation was all too familiar.
She felt the loneliness at night when she headed home from the hospital, she felt it on Sundays when she attended her church in Chicago and saw families sitting in the pews. She felt it every time she left Josh and Griff.
She was lonely. There, she’d admitted it. But she couldn’t do anything about it. Not now, not until she returned to Chicago. Then she’d be able to formulate a plan on how to end her loneliness. Maybe a dog or cat would help.
After dragging the boxes into the stuffy, closed-up house, she faced the task of sorting through all of Mom G.’s items and packing what she wanted to ship to Chicago. The rest would be donated to Goodwill. Forcing her tears away, she walked through the house, and with each step, with every effort to keep grief from overtaking her, the numbness returned.
“Might as well start in the family room,” she muttered, wanting to work up to the rooms that would be more emotionally difficult to face.
As she worked, her mind kept turning to Josh.
His steady strength appealed to her. Even when his overbearing behavior grated on her nerves, she found him compelling. Found comfort in his presence and in his sense of duty and honor. He was a man worth admiring. Worth loving. If only…
She ached for his loss, ached that he grieved for the wife he’d obviously loved. Would Andrea always hold his heart? Or would he heal from her death someday and try to love again? What would it be like to be really loved by Josh, to have his stoic presence filling her life, balancing the irregularity of the E.R. with his unwavering strength?
Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she chided herself for thinking of Josh in terms of the future. His life was here—raising his son, working for the forestry service. Her life was across the country where her newest ideas in triage treatment were waiting to be implemented.
She reached for a platter from the cupboard and paused, remembering with vivid clarity the look in Josh’s eyes the night before. He’d looked at her with such yearning and need. As if he wanted the relaxed and intimate atmosphere that had enveloped their time together to continue. As if somehow the past didn’t matter, only the present. As if he could finally accept her for who she was. As if—
She slammed her thoughts down. Getting caught up in the moment was foolish. For both of them. Josh would never accept her for who she was. He would never accept that medicine was important to her and he would never leave Sonora. Allowing even a brief hope that somehow they could make a life together was beyond absurd.
She forced herself to concentrate on the job at hand. She moved with renewed purpose, her mind so focused that at first she thought a loud pounding on the door was merely an echo of the pounding in her head. She started out of her single-minded drive to get the job done. Hours had passed and dusk had fallen, creating shadows along the walls. She made her way through the house turning on lights as she went. She peered out the peephole and froze.
Josh.
If she didn’t answer the door, would he go away?
The loud knocking persisted. No, he wouldn’t. She took a deep, shaky breath, opened the door and drank in the sight of him in faded denim jeans and navy polo shirt that revealed muscled biceps. His hair looked slightly damp as if he’d recently showered, and the clean scent of soap and man filled her senses.
“You okay?” he asked, concern etched in the lines on his face.
Under his considerate regard, her heart raced and her body heated. With more effort than it should have taken, she composed herself. “I’m fine. Just working on getting things packed. What can I do for you?”
His brows shot up. “You could let me in.”
“I don’t think so. I asked you not to come.”
“And I told you I would.”
She couldn’t argue that. She tried a different tactic. “I appreciate your trying to fulfill your promise to Mom G., but this is a little extreme. Honestly, Josh, the best thing you can do for me is leave.”
He stepped closer, consuming the air, making breathing suddenly difficult. She involuntarily stepped back, trying to allow more oxygen to come between them. “Josh, please.”
In a low, subdued voice he said, “Let me help. The quicker you’re done, the quicker you can leave.”
So that was it. Never mind that his words reflected her own thoughts. All his offers of help were to hurry her along her way. She shouldn’t feel this bubble of disappointed hurt choking her. Shouldn’t feel betrayed that he’d want her gone. She should be glad of the help, glad to move things along so she could leave and resume her life once again. A life without him.
The tumultuous conflict going on inside nearly made her stagger. But she drew herself up, arranging her features into what she hoped would appear as a polite, unaffected smile. “Of course. Leaving’s my priority. But I don’t need your help.”
“I’d think that you’d want the packing done quickly,” he grated out.
She bristled. “Am I not moving fast enough for you?”
“Frankly, no.”
She couldn’t let him in. She’d put off working on her old room and Mom G.’s room for fear of being swamped by her grief. Lord, I need Your strength. She was almost done with the rest of the house. “I can do this on my own.”
He let out an exasperated breath. “Rachel, you shouldn’t be doing this alone.” His voice softened, wrapping her up in its even tones.
She resented how much she suddenly wanted him to help, wanted him to take her in his arms and make all the grief disappear. “I’ve done perfectly well alone for years. What makes you think I need you now?”
His quick intake of air was unmistakable. She peered up into his face, trying to discern his expression in the porch light. A shadow obscured his features, frustrating her attempt to decipher why her words would cause him distress.
“I can’t believe you’re going to renege on your promise so easily. Let me take care of you.”
Stabbing guilt made her open the door wider and step back. He stepped in, engulfing the house with his presence.
She hastily closed the door then moved to a stack of empty boxes and watched him survey the piles she’d scattered about the living room. “I’ve boxed up what I’m having shipped and the rest will be donated to Goodwill.”
He nodded, his piercing, gold-specked gaze making a fire rise in her cheeks. She swallowed, fighting the attraction that always hovered close to the surface. He was a big, handsome man and it was natural for her to find him attractive.
Get a grip. She picked up a box and held it out to him. “We can finish the kitchen.”
In two long strides, he came toward her and took the box. “After you.”
She could do this. She marched past him and into the kitchen. They worked together in tense silence. Rachel found it hard to concentrate with only a few feet separating them. She’d catch herself watching his hands as they wrapped newspaper around dishes, those large masculine hands that with the slightest touch brought her comfort she’d never experienced with anyone else. She forced her mind to focus on her task. Soon the kitchen was packed.
“That’s done.” Josh stretched, his navy blue shirt pulling taut across his shoulders, emphasizing the broad width.
Rachel blinked and quickly turned away as she rose from her position on the floor where she’d finished taping closed the last box. Her stiff legs ached, reminding her she’d hadn’t exercised in a while.
“Now where?”
Her stomach clenched in nervous agitation. “The bedrooms.”
She hoped she could make it through this without breaking down. She didn’t want Josh to witness any weakness.
Josh followed her down the hall to her old room. She pushed open the door, expecting Mom G. had already boxed most of her things and would have used the room for her own purposes, and was surprised to find it much as she’d left it. The frilly white bed coverings were neatly made, the shelves lining the walls held the various books and dolls she’d left behind.
Josh peered over her shoulder. “It’s like walking back in time.”
She closed her eyes against the sudden images of herself as a teenager. With graphic clarity, she saw herself sitting at the desk beneath the window doing her homework, her hair held high in a ponytail, her feet tucked beneath her.
She could still remember the night Mom G. had opened her door and said she had a visitor.
Josh had walked in with his easy grin and gentle manners. She’d secretly had a crush on him since the first day of high school. She hadn’t known he’d noticed her. She hadn’t known that one day he’d break her heart.
She opened her eyes and deliberately stepped forward and began pulling books and dolls from the shelves.
Without further comment, Josh dragged in several empty boxes and placed them at her feet.
“Thanks,” she muttered, grateful for his thoughtfulness.
After a moment she paused and noticed his perplexed expression. The big, strapping male looked wholly out of place in the little girl’s frilly room and clearly he didn’t know what to touch and what not to.
Rachel stifled a smile. “You could strip the bed and pile it with the Goodwill items.”
He flashed a relieved grin that hit Rachel with the shock force of a defibrillator. Quickly she turned back to her shelves. Focus, focus, she chanted inside her head.
After those first few awkward moments, they worked together like a tenured surgical team. She’d load a box, he’d tape it closed and fill out the address label.
Slowly conversation started, tentative at first. Rachel sought for neutral subjects and Josh seemed eager to keep their talk light.
As teens they’d had similar tastes in movies and books. Rachel was mildly surprised to discover that as adults they still shared many common interests.
They relaxed into a sort of rhythm, where one thread of conversation quickly led to another and another. They laughed and companionably argued over politics, choices for the Oscars and which authors should appear on the New York Times bestseller list.
In an amazingly short amount of time, they had her old room boxed up. “Thank you, Josh, for your help,” Rachel said as they finished dragging the boxes into the living room.
“Sure thing.” He held out his large hand. “Just one room left. You ready?”
She swallowed back the sudden tears that burned at the edges of her eyes. His offer of support nearly undid her. Clearly they both knew how hard this was going to be. She shored up her defenses. She couldn’t show weakness, but she took his offered hand and allowed his warm palm to give her strength as they headed down the hall.
Mom G.’s room also was as she remembered. The double bed with its fluffy pink comforter, the dresser cluttered with trinkets and jewelry. The bedside table still held the picture of Mr. Green as a young man.
Rachel headed toward the closet, then stopped as she noticed the new pictures hanging on the wall. They took her breath away.
There were pictures of herself in beautiful frames. School pictures, pictures of her with Mom G., at the prom with Josh at her side, her graduation pictures from high school, college and medical school.
“She was very proud of you.”
Josh’s softly spoken words sent shivers of fire down her spine. If only he could be proud of her. She frowned at the thought and began pulling the pictures from the wall.
Lovingly she wrapped each frame in paper and stacked them in a box Josh had carried in. This time they worked in reverent silence, occasionally sharing memories of Mom G. Rachel kept more of the items from Mom G.’s room than she had from any other.
The large armoire that graced the wall next to the closet drew her attention. She’d find a place for it in her apartment. She ran her hand over the gleaming wood.
“When I first came to live with Mom G. I was a very scared little girl,” she commented aloud. “Once again frightened by a new place, a new parent and a new set of rules to learn. One day I hid inside this chest.”
“What happened?” Josh asked as he came to stand beside her, his presence comforting.
She smiled up at him, liking the way his interest was centered on her. “Mom G. found me. Instead of the anger I had expected, she lovingly held me and told me stories until the fear went away. She was an awesome woman.”
Josh reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was electrifying as his knuckles grazed her cheek. “She was.”
His gaze trapped hers. She was letting him get too close both physically and emotionally. She didn’t want that, couldn’t allow it. Only pain would result. She stepped back out of reach and gulped for air. “I’ll have the shipping company pack up the armoire.”
One corner of Josh’s mouth tipped up as if he knew how he was affecting her. Disconcerted, she turned her focus to the closet. She touched each garment and Mom G.’s scent wafted up from the clothes, tugging at Rachel, making her ache.
“What’s that?”
She wiped away a tear before facing Josh. “What?”
He tilted his head upward. “There.”
She followed his gaze. A white box on the top shelf of the closet bore her name. She glanced at him. “Would you mind?”
Josh squeezed beside her, eating up space, and Rachel stepped back, nearly falling into the clothes piled on the floor. He reached out to steady her, his huge, strong hand closing around her forearm, sending hot sparks shooting up her arm.
“Thanks.” She extracted herself from his grip and moved a safe distance way. Josh’s proximity and his touch did funny things to her insides and she didn’t want funny things going on inside. It made staying focused difficult.
He easily retrieved the box. “The living room?”
“Please.” She headed down the hall. Josh set the box on the coffee table. She opened the lid and widened her eyes in pleasure. A tattered teddy bear lay on top of a scrapbook.
“Yours?”
“Yes.” She picked up the bear and ran a hand over it. “My mother gave him to me before she died. I’d thought I’d lost him. Mom G. must have packed him up to preserve him.” A lump rose in her throat. She held the bear close to ease the tightness in her chest.
Setting the bear aside, she picked up the scrapbook and laid it on the table. She sat on the sofa and flipped through the pages. Josh took the seat beside her, distracting her.
“Mrs. G. put effort into this,” he remarked.
“It’s wonderful.” She couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed looking at the pictures and the little anecdotes written beside the frames. The book chronicled her life with Mom G., starting with the first day she’d arrived to the last picture Rachel had sent. On the last line in the book Mom G. had written, “The rest of the book is for you to fill with pictures of your family.”
Rachel stared at the words. Mom G. was her family. Without her, Rachel was alone.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, Josh asked softly, “Are those pages going to be filled, Rachel? Do you have someone waiting for you in Chicago?”
She slanted him a glance, aware of the anger stirring in her chest. Anger because he had no right to ask her that, anger because the answer was no.
“What do you think? No, wait.” She held up a hand before he could respond. “What was it you said? ‘No man would want to marry a woman whose priority in life was her career.’ My priority is my career.”
His words still haunted her. Every time a man had shown interest in her, she’d remember those words, remembered the pain of loving only to have to make a choice between the man and her God-given path. And her choice would always be the same.
Her life was about making a difference, about being a doctor.
“Rachel, I’m—”
“You’re what? Sorry?” Rachel scoffed, her strength rapidly depleting. “Don’t be. You were right. I wouldn’t have accomplished what I have if I’d married or stayed in this town.” She couldn’t stand the pity in his eyes but hated even more that she’d validated his position on her career.
She closed the book.
Josh tipped the box forward. “There’s something else in here.”
She watched as he pulled a large manila envelope from the box and handed it to her. Anxious to get through this, she broke the seal and grabbed an official-looking file. Her name stared at her from the tab.
Ignoring the prickling awareness of Josh’s gaze, she flipped open the file. The contents marked her progress through the Department of Child Services, starting with the day she became a ward of the state and continued on, noting every foster home with comments by the foster parents. She quickly read and absorbed the words. For out of the five homes she’d lived in, the comments were nearly the same: “The child cooperates well, is very quiet and insecure.”
Rachel’s mouth twisted. More like scared to death.
Mom G.’s name appeared as the last foster home. The remarks made by Mom G. touched Rachel deeply. To Mom G. she wasn’t “the child,” she was Rachel. A little girl who needed love and affection.
With a snap, she closed the file. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, but a grown woman who just lost the last bit of family she’d ever known.
The hospital. The people there would be her family now. Her focus would be entirely on the patients, and their care, with no distractions.
Impatiently she dumped out the rest of the manila envelope. A hospital bracelet with her mother’s name and the blue and white insignia of Sonora Community Hospital, a birth certificate and a small grouping of photos fell out.
Her breath caught in her throat. With shaky hands, she reached for the top snapshot. The woman in the picture had curly hair, which framed her face, and blue eyes sparkling with intelligence.
“Is this your mother?”
She nodded, afraid that if she spoke he’d hear her anguish. She had one picture of her mother that the social worker had given to her. It sat on her bedside table in a crystal frame.
“You look like her.”
The compliment nearly shattered her composure.
Gathering every vestige of her control, she spread the rest of the photos out on the table. Five in all. “I’ve never seen these. I wonder why Mom G. never gave them to me.”
“Maybe she thought they’d make you sad.”
In one frame, her mother stood on a beach staring out at the waves, her expression pensive. In another, her mother held a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. The next was a park setting. A two-year-old Rachel sat on a swing, her mother behind her, joyous smiles on both of their faces. The last photo was of her mother, dressed up and looking like a princess.
“I wonder if my father took these?” Everything hurt inside and she willed the pain away.
Josh took her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, anchoring her as the tide of grief began to rise within her.
“I don’t even know who he was, Josh. What he’d been like. Why he’d left.”
“I didn’t know,” he responded softly. “You’d said he was gone. I’d assumed he was dead.”
“He was gone before I was born.” She picked up the birth certificate. Her own. She pointed to the line where her father’s name should have been. “’Unknown’?” Her voice rose, betraying the anguish building in her chest.
At sixteen she’d needed her birth certificate for her driver’s license. Any hopes or plans she had of seeking her father out died when she’d seen that one word. “I can’t accept he was some stranger my mother hadn’t loved. Some one-night-stand type of deal.”
“Maybe he hadn’t known she was pregnant when they broke up.”

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