The Bluebird Bet
Cheryl Harper
Winning isn't everything…to other people Dr. Elaine Watson never loses. Period. So she won't miss out on a chance to restore the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. The owner's son, Dean Collins, seems just as determined as she is. A famous photojournalist, he hasn't been home in years, so why does he want to turn the Bluebird, a charming old B and B, into a fishing camp?With just a few weeks to create the winning plan, Elaine has no choice but to spend time with the guy. She's drawn to the handsome, wounded man, but being with Dean would mean giving up the future she's been dreaming of… And Dr. Elaine Watson never gives up.
Winning isn’t everything...to other people
Dr. Elaine Watson never loses. Period. So she won’t miss out on a chance to restore the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. The owner’s son, Dean Collins, seems just as determined as she is. A famous photojournalist, he hasn’t been home in years, so why does he want to turn the Bluebird, a charming old B and B, into a fishing camp?
With just a few weeks to create the winning plan, Elaine has no choice but to spend time with the guy. She’s drawn to the handsome, wounded man, but being with Dean would mean giving up the future she’s been dreaming of... And Dr. Elaine Watson never gives up.
“When I want something badly, I don’t waste time.”
“You’d be surprised how quickly I could get this place restored and open for business.” One corner of her mouth tilted up, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the fire of determination in her eyes. “Bet on it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned closer. “I don’t have to. This is my place. My father’s already promised to let me give it a shot. I’m going to make my changes on my own timeline. You lose.”
Her lips tightened and she closed her eyes for two seconds. “Of course. You’re right. I’d forgotten in the excitement of seeing the place.” She stepped back. “Thank you for the tour.”
She held out her hand. Dean reluctantly shook it. Surely it couldn’t be this easy.
Then she smiled at his father. “When this fails, Mr. Collins, please give me a call. As long as the building’s still standing, I’m interested in having my chance.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_68bc0ef3-29be-54cf-9aa7-845fd207ae5b),
Have a seat in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch of the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast and enjoy the view of Spring Lake. Right now the whole place can use some tender loving care, but Robert Collins has a plan for that. His son, Dean, a famous photojournalist, or Dr. Elaine Watson, the busiest, best doctor in town, will give the place a face-lift.
Elaine’s plan involves restoration, a return to the Bluebird she remembers from happy family vacations. Dean is preparing for an overhaul. He’s looking for adventure and an escape from his painful memories.
Tall Pines, Spring Lake, and this bed-and-breakfast are a mixture of places I’ve visited or wish I could someday. I hope you enjoy your visit! If your first trip to Tall Pines was A Minute on the Lips, you’ll have a chance to catch up with Mark and Andi, too.
If you’d like to know more about my books and what’s coming next, enter fun giveaways, or meet my dog, Jack, please visit me at cherylharperbooks.com (http://cherylharperbooks.com). You can sign up for my newsletter, too. I’m also on Facebook (CherylHarperRomance (https://www.facebook.com/CherylHarperRomance)) and Twitter (@CherylHarperBks (https://twitter.com/cherylharperbks)). I’d love to chat!
Cheryl Harper
The Bluebird Bet
Cheryl Harper
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether it’s the prairie, the American West, Regency England or Earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog, Jack, snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.
For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at cherylharperbooks.com (http://cherylharperbooks.com) or follow her on Twitter, @cherylharperbks (https://twitter.com/cherylharperbks).
Contents
Cover (#u25df55e9-1288-5faa-ae2c-f9950265a999)
Back Cover Text (#ua8ac45d3-9382-592a-9824-b13117bcef0b)
Introduction (#u41b730d6-fe55-57cf-b073-0052b1fcbbd4)
Dear Reader (#u555c90c9-b25d-5eab-a17d-73fcb3c617d8)
Title Page (#u576498ff-8050-5559-8bf3-cc1761faecb2)
About the Author (#uabbe9e22-f0e6-5aba-8e5f-a8a07ebbcfbb)
CHAPTER ONE (#u175ec88b-1104-5917-b54b-734b3569930a)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue45c007b-b791-5f03-af33-c9334743ba62)
CHAPTER THREE (#ud78fe4b2-5d58-5d77-9bb4-1a5bf83567a1)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u768e60ab-ea7d-5a60-a11f-2b50d6c65395)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_c3160059-bf29-5f9d-b3ac-75713aeb692d)
“LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE been getting plenty of sun, Mr. Collins,” Elaine Watson murmured as she looked over his vitals. “That might be good for your blood pressure but not your skin.” She glanced over her glasses to see Robert Collins roll his eyes over a sunburned nose.
“I’m old, Doc. I’ll risk a little burn to feel the sun on my face.”
“Skin cancer is no joke,” Elaine answered and realized what a bossy know-it-all she sounded like. But she’d seen countless families suffer through the disease, and she didn’t want to watch Robert Collins do the same. He was her favorite patient.
Then she remembered that he’d lost his wife to cancer and realized what a waste of breath lecturing him was. He’d already lived through the worst. No one could forget that.
“Just try some sunscreen while you’re out on Spring Lake, okay? For my sake.” He nodded once, and she decided to believe he was agreeing with her instead of moving the conversation along.
“Any new complaints? You’ve lost another ten pounds, so whatever you’re doing is working.” Elaine flipped through his chart. When he’d arrived at the after-hours emergency care center two years ago, he’d been in bad shape with chest pains and blood pressure through the roof. His improvement was thanks to an angioplasty and medication to control his blood pressure combined with a desire to make a change.
“Fit as a fiddle, Doc. In fact, I’m about to take more of your advice. I’m going to get a new hobby. Bet you never thought you’d see the day.” Noting the gleam in his eyes, Elaine braced herself. A teasing Robert Collins was a charming, dangerous thing.
When they’d first met, getting him to talk about anything had felt like an accomplishment. Over time, this strong, silent type had thawed.
Elaine set his chart down. “Hit me with it. I can’t wait to hear what piece of life-saving advice has trickled in.”
“I’m going to travel.” He stuck out his chin as if she’d pin a star to his chest if they handed out medals for good ideas. “Gonna get one of those high-class travel trailers and see some purple mountains and gold waves of grain and white, sandy beaches.”
“Really?” Elaine tilted her head as she considered the suggestion. “By yourself?”
Robert frowned. “If I have to. You don’t think I can?” It was an insult he would never stand for. Even after all they’d been through, he had a hard time believing he was no longer bulletproof.
She studied his clear eyes, shining with intelligence and a little bit of annoyance, thought about his vitals and then nodded. “Sure. You can. Do you want to?”
He snorted. “What difference does it make? I’m out there all by myself every day. Gets old after a while. A change of scenery would be a nice thing.”
Too much alone time was something Elaine understood. Sometimes being by herself was wonderful. At the end of every day, she needed some silence to catch her breath. Other times, it was lonely. Lately, a restless dissatisfaction had intruded on her quiet. But nothing would tempt her away from Robert’s spot on the lake if she was lucky enough to own it.
“You mean the prettiest view of Spring Lake and the mountains around Tall Pines isn’t enough?” Elaine tapped her pen. “I’m not sure I can imagine anything better than sitting on the porch of the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“You haven’t been out to the inn for years, Doc. Been more than a decade since Martha died and the place...” He stared at his folded hands. “It’s not what it used to be. Until recently, I couldn’t stand the thought of changing anything.”
Elaine patted his shoulder. This was the biggest challenge of treating her patients: knowing what to say or do when absolutely nothing she said or did would ease the pain. Some hurts only time would heal. No doubt losing his wife would make it difficult to enjoy the view from the wraparound porch of the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. Maybe Elaine couldn’t imagine anything better than a rocking chair and the calm of Spring Lake after a hard day, but she didn’t have his memories, either.
A single rocking chair might not be as satisfying as she tried to convince herself it could be.
“I should have hit the road years ago. Might have been easier to deal with losing her.” His choked voice said clearly that nothing in the world would make losing his wife any easier. Elaine hated to hear that pain even as she wondered if she’d ever find someone who’d miss her that much when she was gone.
“Mr. Collins, you’re on the right track. The best part is that if your trip isn’t what you dream of, you can always come home to Tall Pines. This place will still be here, Spring Lake will still have some of the best fishing in the state and we’ve got plenty of mountains, too.” The fact that Tall Pines changed slowly was one of its finest features. Life moved quickly. People came and went, most of them before she was ready to say goodbye, so a place like this was ideal.
She tried an encouraging smile that must have worked, because the sadness on his face drained away.
“What are you going to do with the Bluebird? I spent some great summers there, so if you’re thinking of selling, I’d love to make an offer.”
At that moment, anyone checking Elaine’s pulse would definitely be concerned. She’d been working and saving forever without any notion what she was hoping for.
Now she knew. This inn was meant to be hers.
The frown that wrinkled his brow was unusual. No matter how sad he might be, Robert Collins always smiled. The day he’d walked into the emergency clinic with chest pains, he’d led with a joke and done his best to keep the mood light while the nurses scurried around him.
“Well, now, here’s the problem.” He sighed. “You remember Dean, right?”
“Sure. Vaguely.” Dean Collins was a few years older than she was. He’d been around the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast the summers she’d visited, but neither one of them had taken much notice of the other. To her, he’d always seemed so wild and mysterious. “And I’ve seen some of his work.” She was going to leave it at that. A son who would let his father recover from heart surgery alone didn’t rate very high in her book even if he’d won awards for his photography. No matter how she struggled to manage her mother’s wild mood swings, she’d never desert her.
“Well, he’s in town. Showed up out of the blue last week, moved into his old bedroom like he hadn’t been gone and announced he wants to reopen the inn.” He shook his head. “Just like that. I was surprised, to say the least.”
She was, too. The ache of disappointment that settled in her chest was silly. She hadn’t even had a chance to buy the Bluebird, much less actually lose one.
Don’t be so emotional, Elaine. He’s been planning to leave it to his son, of course. That’s what families do. There’s no need to take it personally.
She forced a smile. “Well, that’s good, then. You won’t have to worry about the Bluebird while you’re seeing America the beautiful.” And she’d keep on working, saving her money for who knows what, and ignore the strange dissatisfaction that was getting harder to shake even with double emergency shifts and crazy office days.
Robert Collins moved his head back and forth as if he wasn’t quite as convinced. “Except he’s proven more than once that this is not where he wants to be. He’s gotten tight-lipped with all this travel, so I haven’t managed to figure out where the change of heart is coming from, but I’m afraid to trust it.”
A discreet tap on the door by Nina, Elaine’s dedicated nurse, signaled the end of their appointment. Patients were waiting in the other exam rooms, and the lobby was a madhouse. Resigned that the day had to march on, Elaine stood up and said, “Maybe he’ll stay until you’re ready to see Spring Lake again.”
Robert Collins slid off the exam table. “Here’s the thing. It’s a tough decision, but it’s the right time. Someone else can take the Bluebird and make it special again. Martha would want that, and she’d want me to get off my hindquarters and do something with all this time. Running an inn...well, I think maybe it’s a talent a person’s born with. Martha had that gift—it ran in her blood. Without her, the business just...stopped. The place lost its magic, and eventually guests stopped coming. That suited me fine for a while. Now, I’m not sure Dean’s the right choice, but I don’t know if I can let it go to someone else.” Robert blinked slowly. “I understand that letting it fall down around my ears is the worst option. Martha’d hate to see her inn looking like it does.”
Elaine squeezed his arm. “Let Dean take a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Nothing felt comfortable about this whole situation, but it seemed like the right thing to say. She wanted the Bluebird. She should make him an offer. But he wanted the best for his son and for the Bluebird. She would encourage him, even if it went against her nature.
“You surprise me, Doc. Figured a take-no-prisoners winner would seize any weakness.” He raised an eyebrow. “Better not let Wanda Blankenship see that soft underbelly when the Fourth of July half marathon comes around. She’ll knock you out of the top spot.”
Oh, no. She would not. Elaine had placed first in the women’s division every year since she’d moved here. Wanda Blankenship, owner of the town gym, would eat her dust again this year.
Some of her warrior’s spirit must have shown on her face because Robert laughed as though it was the funniest thing in the world to put a target on Wanda Blankenship’s back. Good thing he wasn’t racing.
“You have to do what you believe is right, Mr. Collins. I’m doing my best not to launch into a hard sell, mainly because I like you so much.” Elaine rested her hand on the doorknob. “You know how I feel. I spent some lovely afternoons on the front porch drinking tea with my mother. I’d love to have that view of Spring Lake as my own.”
Robert nodded slowly. “Well, how about...” He stared off into space for a second and then nodded again. “Come out for a visit. Meet Dean. We’ll talk about your plans and then see...” He shrugged. “Maybe selling to you is the best thing for me and Dean. Maybe he needs somewhere to catch his breath before he hits the road again. I don’t want a run-down building holding him back any more than I want to be the one keeping the Bluebird from being restored. Once he sees I’ve got a buyer, he might see the benefit of coming up with a new plan.”
“He could hit the road with you. You could see the country together.” Elaine couldn’t help it. She should encourage this plan. Robert Collins might be one of her favorite people, but his son was fair game. She could outmaneuver him without the slightest guilt.
Maybe.
“Right.” Robert rubbed his forehead. “We don’t usually see eye to eye. Once his mother died, Tall Pines lost all hold on him, and now I have a hard time imagining my rolling stone settling in one spot, even on Spring Lake.” Then he smiled. “Not your worry, Doc. Come out this weekend. See how far you’d have to go to restore the building and then we can talk about whether it’s something you’re still interested in.”
Elaine felt a flutter of hope. The Bluebird was a dream she could go after. Once she’d decided to pursue something, she rarely lost. She liked her odds all of a sudden. “Fine. I’d love to visit.”
“Maybe you and Dean will hit it off. Only a matter of time until you two meet anyway. Kid’s always had a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, which leads to stitches, splints and casts, if you know what I mean. Broke his arm when he was sixteen by falling off the roof. The girl he was trying to impress was more horrified than anything else.”
Confused at the thought of anyone being foolhardy enough to climb the roof of the two-story farmhouse, Elaine opened the door and nearly shut it again at the mixture of ringing phones, arguing television pundits and the screams of an anxious child in the waiting room.
The Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast was set in a peaceful spot overlooking Spring Lake. What she wouldn’t give to spend her evenings there, catching her breath after long days of noise like this.
“Before you go, make an appointment for your six-month follow-up. Don’t miss it.” She shook her finger at him. “This road trip has to come second to your health, right?”
He grumbled but the gleam in his eye was back. “And I won’t forget the sunscreen.”
Elaine smiled and waved goodbye. She could hear him talking with Wendy, her office manager, as she wrote her notes in his file and then asked Nina to call in refills on his medications.
“Here’s the file for the next patient, Miss Hailey Dawson, age nine,” Nina said as she slid over the folder. “Room two. Sneezing, cough, low fever. Looks like a cold to me—”
A loud commotion followed by the unmistakable sounds of someone vomiting in the waiting room interrupted whatever Nina was about to add to her diagnosis. Elaine had to take a deep, calming breath.
“No worries, boss. I’ll take care of it.” Nina patted her hand, picked up the trash can and hurried around the desk. “Oh, and your mother’s already called three times this morning. The messages are on your desk.” Nina paused and met her gaze. “Sorry, boss.”
Elaine smiled. “No problem, Nina. I did warn you. The third divorce is almost final. Expect it to go on like this until there’s a new man.”
Nina saluted and disappeared into the waiting room.
For half a second, she considered checking the messages. Just because it had never been an emergency before didn’t mean today was the same. Except Nina would have correctly assessed the situation just as she’d diagnosed the next patient.
Her mother could wait. Work could not.
Elaine scooped up the file and quickly entered the next exam room.
“Hailey, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you. How’s the rabbit?” Elaine shook hands with Hailey’s mother, whose name she could not remember.
“He’s good. Fat!” Hailey said with a delighted sparkle in her eyes just before she sneezed.
“She’s got a terrible sneeze, coughs all night and I’m afraid her temperature’s up,” her mother said. “It’s probably a cold, but I wanted to make sure.”
Elaine nodded as she listened to Hailey’s lungs, checked her temperature and took a look at her throat and ears. “Well, it looks to me like she’s the latest to catch the cold tearing through town. Something for the cough and congestion will ease the symptoms.” Elaine made some notes then ripped off the top page of her notepad and handed it to Hailey’s mother. “These over-the-counter meds should help.”
“So...no shot?” Hailey asked and then clapped her hands. “Yes!”
“I can tell you’re disappointed. I could round up a shot for you,” Elaine said. She might not have kids, but she liked them. They didn’t usually return the favor, at least not while she was wearing a stethoscope around her neck.
“No, thank you,” Hailey said and rolled her eyes. She straightened the bow in her curls and then carefully folded the pleats in her skirt. Hailey had a unique style. This was a girl who loved color. All of them. And all at once.
“I really like your tights, Hailey. Did you wear those to impress me?” They were striped with all the colors of the rainbow. Elaine looked at her pale green scrubs and wished for more color of her own.
“I like rainbows. Did you know you can only see a rainbow if you’re standing with your back to the sun?” Hailey nodded her head to add extra weight to her delivery. “It’s true.”
“Of course. Did you know that rainbows are made from light bouncing off raindrops?” Elaine answered.
Hailey rolled her eyes again, and Elaine knew she had to up her game.
“Uh, yeah. Did you know double rainbows are caused when light is reflected twice? And you can have even three or four rainbows together, although I’ve never seen one of those.” Hailey looked a little brokenhearted at the confession.
Elaine glanced at her mother and then back to Hailey. Obviously, the girl loved science. Hailey might be Elaine a couple of decades ago.
Her mother waved a hand, a slightly rueful smile on her face. “Unless you want to do this all day, I’d move on, Dr. Watson. I keep hoping she’ll grow out of it, start asking for makeup and pop music.” That was another reminder of the young Elaine—a mother who wanted her to be something she wasn’t.
“Maybe she’ll be a doctor someday,” Elaine said.
Hailey straightened her shoulders and smoothed down her skirt again. “I’m going to be the president someday.”
Elaine studied her face. “Maybe you could be both.”
Hailey brightened as if the idea of choosing had been a real problem. Then she sneezed, and Elaine handed her a tissue. “If you could come up with a cure for colds before you become leader of the free world, we’d all be in your debt.”
Hailey held up her hand for a high five. Elaine answered Hailey’s high five and watched her blow her nose. After washing her hands, Elaine opened the door. “Come in next week if the symptoms aren’t significantly improved.”
Hailey’s mother smiled. Hailey hopped off the exam table in a blur of rainbow colors. Elaine watched them leave and then walked over to Nina. “Looks like you’re right.”
Elaine added a note to the file and slid it across to her.
Nina saluted and handed her the next folder. “One of the Shady Ladies is waiting. Just a follow-up for Sue Jackson.”
Elaine grinned at Nina’s affectionate nickname for the ladies who lived at Shady Pines, the assisted-living facility in town. If they ever heard her use it, they’d have T-shirts made up and start a bowling team to have somewhere to wear them.
“Everything okay in the waiting room?” Elaine asked as she glanced at the doorway. She did not want to check for herself.
Nina’s lips twitched. “We handled it without you.”
Elaine blushed and then laughed. “Of course you did. That’s why I can’t do this by myself.”
Nina brushed that off. “Best doctor in town. Everyone says so, and you know it. Vomit being your kryptonite doesn’t change that fact.” She glared at the ringing phone. “Don’t forget we’re all headed to the Smokehouse for dinner. Wendy’s birthday.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got a shift at the clinic. You guys party without me.” Elaine straightened the stack of forms on the counter in front of her and then shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’ll tell Wendy happy birthday.” Now that Nina had reminded her.
“Sure thing.” Nina’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hope you’ll get a day off soon, though. It would be good for you.”
Nina might be right. Elaine had been wondering if she’d know what to do with a full weekend off. She might remember to buy a birthday card for the woman who kept the lights on and the office running.
But as long as her patients needed her, she couldn’t slow down.
That was what she told her mother every time the subject came up.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. After a lifetime of hitting goals and pushing herself, she felt guilty if she sometimes wished for a few hours to drive to Lawrence to buy new shoes.
“Thanks for all your hard work, Nina. I couldn’t manage without you.” Elaine fought the urge to scurry away because a patient was waiting. She wanted to be sure Nina understood how important she was. Normally, Elaine did the job and let the emotions settle where they would, but something about today made it important to say exactly what she meant.
“You aren’t dying, are you?” Nina raised both eyebrows. “You don’t do the touchy-feely.”
“Definitely not dying. I’m a doctor. I would know.” Elaine waved her file. “And on that note, I’ll get back to work.”
“These sick people won’t cure themselves.” Nina zoomed around her to find the next patient to fill up the currently empty exam room.
Elaine tapped the file on her hand and considered that. Nina was exactly right. She was the best doctor in town. She’d worked hard to get here, and she was doing what she was meant to do. That should be satisfying. And it was. She was proud of herself and what she’d accomplished, but lately she’d been wondering if there was supposed to be more. Or at least a bit of breathing room.
The thought of slowing down scared her. What if her practice slipped? What if she disappointed her patients?
Who would she be if she wasn’t the number one doctor in town?
Elaine rubbed her forehead to ease the nagging headache that came from second-guessing her life and not getting enough sleep. Learning to relax wouldn’t be the worst idea. Maybe she should take the advice she’d given Robert Collins. A new hobby could improve her whole outlook.
And if that hobby was restoring an old inn, the site of her favorite family getaways, she could also make another dream come true.
All she had to do was convince Dean Collins to hit the road again and she would have the Bluebird all for herself. How hard could it be?
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_281b3b82-8d25-528d-85b2-14ad073edaf3)
DEAN COLLINS FOUGHT the urge to kick his feet like a bored four-year-old. After reading all the news he could get his hands on—old issues of the local paper, the state paper and his favorite online news sites—he’d come to sit on the edge of the dock while his father fished. Dean had wanted to start a conversation or make a connection or whatever the proper term was for two grown men talking about their feelings.
And they were sitting in silence.
Like they did most of the time, in fact. He raveled the edge of the latest pair of jeans he’d managed to destroy. For years, his wardrobe consisted of heavy boots, worn jeans and a collection of T-shirts that could fit in a backpack. No shorts. But these had a ripped knee and a bloodstain from an ill-fated trek from Dharamsala. That was the kind of thing he did for fun: climb mountains and shake off a skinned knee when the climb turned into a tumble.
Now he dangled his feet in the water and hoped for a nibble—anything exciting. Adjusting to the change of pace was harder than he’d thought it would be.
“Nice weather.” The whole world over, there was one topic of conversation everyone could fall back on: the weather forecast. Maybe they were on different sides of hot vs. cold or wet vs. dry, but everyone had an opinion about the weather. Tall Pines was no exception.
In fact, the weekly forecast enjoyed some prime real estate on the last page of the Times. Most of the world had gone to infographics. Not so here. He’d actually had to read the forecast so he was prepared to converse.
Obviously, there was no need yet. His father’s grunt could be taken as either agreement or disagreement, but it didn’t do much to pick up the conversational ball and run with it.
Even if they’d had a rousing conversation about precipitation, he’d still be bored.
Or maybe restless, antsy. Thinking could be trouble, but the urge to move usually kept him distracted. Outrunning bad memories was a habit he’d picked up early. His problem now was that, no matter how fast or far he went, they were catching up.
So, with his first strategy failing, he’d come back to the place it all started: home.
“How’d the doctor visit go?” A question that required either an answer or outright rudeness. That ought to open the door.
“Good.”
So the question wasn’t as foolproof as he thought. “Sheesh, no need to talk my ear off.”
His dad glanced in his direction. “You’re one to talk. Ready to tell me about this concussion and why you don’t sleep?”
Dean pulled his feet out of the water and stood. “You know the military. Bunch of worriers.”
His dad’s lips formed a thin line, and Dean was afraid he was coming up with questions Dean had no answers for. “Right. They do love to coddle the journalists they cram in beside their delicate soldiers.”
Dean rolled up the sleeves of the flannel shirt he’d pulled on over his ragged jeans and stepped into flip-flops that looked as though they’d been feeding a small family of rodents. “The unit I was with got caught in a firefight with a small band of rebels. There was an explosion. No one was killed, but I hit my head. Saw stars. That was enough for the army doctors.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know me. I’ve had way worse.”
His dad was quiet for too long. Finally, he said, “At least it brought you home for a few days.”
His father never had been good at guilt trips, but he might be getting better.
“I’m glad you had a nice visit,” Dean mumbled and turned to go...somewhere. He had no idea where, but he’d made his effort for the day.
His father’s voice stopped him. “Invited her out. She’s coming to take a look around.”
“Who? The doctor? Why?” The place definitely would not show well, not yet. He’d get to work on that soon, but not today. Today was for forcing himself to take it slow. He had to learn sometime, and the sooner, the better.
His dad sighed and pulled his pole out of the water to set it on the dock. “She used to visit. Loved the tearoom and the inn.”
Dean looked over his shoulder at the house he’d grown up in. When his mother was alive, she’d settled for nothing less than pristine white paint with bright blue shutters, precisely manicured gardens and flags snapping in the breeze to welcome visitors.
The gray boards and peeling paint, ragged flower beds and air of general fatigue almost made it hard to believe it was the same place.
Except the beautiful bones were still there. He counted six windows across the front of the house, the finest guest rooms, and wished he’d thought to camp in one of those. The view of the lake might have helped calm some of his anger and irritation and just...overwhelming emotion.
Something had to or he might have a meltdown, lose the control he’d worked so hard to hold on to. Sometimes, when he was staring out the window in the middle of the night, he wondered if he was already there.
“Hope she’s not too disappointed,” his father murmured, and Dean turned to see his dad’s eyes were locked on him.
“I wish I’d known, Dad. I might have been able to help.” And the guilt he’d been buried under when he’d lurched to a stop under the old oak tree would have been much lighter. But he hadn’t known. Because he hadn’t been home in a long time.
Without his mother to hold them together, he and his dad had struggled. It was easier to take the next story, jump on a plane and tell himself it was all for his career. His father never complained about missing him and never mentioned needing help. He’d thought they were both satisfied.
Until that career nearly killed him, and he had nowhere else to go.
“Well, I’m here now, and I think I know what to do to get this place up and running. We’re going to make some changes.” He tried to infuse the statement with confidence. The last time he’d suggested changes, he’d been too young and unstable to convince his father. Now both of them and the Bluebird were in desperate need of a change.
“About that...” His father turned to look out over the shore next to the short dock. “She wants to buy the Bluebird. Renovate it. Maybe we should consider that. Neither one of us should be tied down by the past.”
Speechless, Dean stared at his pale feet and the weathered boards of the dock. He’d never really thought about a life without the inn. Knowing it would always be here when he was ready made it easier to brave the most dangerous spots on the planet. He’d trusted his father to make sure he had a home just in case he ever needed somewhere safe.
Getting the Bluebird open would be hard work, but running a fish camp like he had in mind or even a country inn seemed like a vacation after dodging bullets and crooked foreign politicians for years.
That career, the one he’d loved for so long, wasn’t a smart way to spend the rest of what would be too short a life. If he could learn to slow down, settle in, everything would be perfect. If he couldn’t do that in Tall Pines, he had no idea where to go next.
Maybe it was time to have the conversation he’d been putting off since he arrived.
“Listen, Dad,” Dean said as he scrubbed his hands through his hair, “you probably have some doubts, but I have a good plan, one that will work. You’ll still be free to fish or hit the road or whatever. You can trust everything to me.”
His dad was silent, and Dean fought the urge to explain himself to this quiet man who’d always been content like this, sitting on the dock and watching the water. This plan to explore the country all alone was a new development, another one Dean was having a hard time adjusting to. He watched his dad stand easily and bend down to grasp the fishing pole.
“For how long?” His father spoke softly, but it was a loud thought in the silence of Spring Lake on a summer day.
That was the only question he didn’t have an answer for, and it was the most important one.
“Maybe you could explain what’s going on, son.” His father reached up to squeeze his shoulder, the same way he’d done when Dean was a teenager and needed encouragement. It wasn’t one of his mother’s perfumed hugs, but the way he wanted to fling his arms around his father’s neck was just... He was a grown man. Crazy enough to travel the world with a camera and a backpack. He could handle his own problems.
“I think...” How could he say it without alarming his father? The last thing he wanted, now that his dad was considering moving forward, was to hold him back. “You know how, when you’re busy, you keep adding things on, piling on one more job and hurrying through this thing to get to the next until finally something happens and you can’t catch up anymore?”
His father frowned and considered the weathered boards under his feet. “Been a long time, but maybe. That what happened to you? Need a vacation? You could always hit the road with me. Sure would be exciting.”
Dean gave a hard laugh. Yeah, that was what happened. Except it was so much worse than missing deadlines or being late with bills. Watching men fight for their lives took a toll. Sitting on a beach and soaking up the sun was only the first step in his recovery, but it was one he could take immediately.
“I need a new life. I need to sleep without the threat of death or the memory of my last assignment waking me up. I need...” Dean hated even saying the words out loud, admitting his weakness, especially to his father. “If I don’t do something new, I’m afraid I’m not going to make it, Dad.”
His father didn’t look away until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat. These attacks of emotion that came out of nowhere rattled Dean, but the truth was he had no control over them. He hated that.
They might shock his father, but he’d never let Dean down, either.
“And you think this place can give you what you need?” The doubt in his voice was clear. Dean tried not to take it personally, because he wasn’t fully convinced himself.
They both heard the crunch of gravel down the washed-out road.
“Guess she’s here.” His father squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll figure it out, son.” Dean hoped to convince them both that letting him have the Bluebird was the best decision, but the right words wouldn’t come.
“Just meet her. I’ll show her how run-down the inn is. Might be enough to convince her she’d like to build her own house somewhere nearby. We could be neighbors, and everyone’s happy.” His father didn’t look like he believed that, though.
“Hard to imagine another space like this anywhere, Dad.” Dean was relieved to be on firmer emotional footing. His father whistled as they walked up the hill to the overgrown yard.
When the car door shut on a sensible gray four-door sedan, Dean watched the doctor, if she was a doctor, tiptoe carefully through the gravel in sandals that had no business outside the city streets. Instead of scrubs or a white coat, she was wearing a sundress. She looked like a model for a beachside getaway. Obviously, she’d dressed for the old Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. If she’d known about today’s disaster, she’d be wearing work boots or mourning. Either way, she was not prepared for what she was about to see.
Didn’t mean she wasn’t pretty in a very serious, very studious kind of way. Her dark glasses perched on the end of her nose, and her hair was twisted up on top of her head. Except for the setting, she could be out for brunch with the ladies.
“Hi. I hope I’m not late, Mr. Collins,” she said breathlessly as she stepped into the grass in front of the porch. “Beautiful day for a drive.”
“Shoulda warned you about the road. You could have called me from the highway to save your car a little wear and tear.” His father propped his hands on his hips. Dean had seen the pose a few hundred times. It was the one his father struck when he was carefully assessing the situation.
“Oh, it’s not so bad.” She held out her hand. “I’m Elaine, Dr. Watson. It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”
Caught off guard, Dean grasped her hand in his. She surprised him again when she gave it a firm shake and then dropped it as though it was too hot to hold.
“What do you think?” his father asked. “Not quite what you remembered, is it?” The uncertainty on his father’s face had a few defensive comments popping to mind, but before Dean could get any of them ready to fire, she said, “I love it.”
She slowly stepped forward as if she was drawn toward the building, being towed in by a mixture of old memories and the charm of the faded wraparound porch.
“I can’t believe it’s taken this long to come back,” Elaine said quietly. “Only good manners have kept me from showing up on your doorstep, Mr. Collins.”
His father laughed. “And crazy hours, double shifts and patients who need you have no doubt hampered your ability to explore.” She smiled at his father over her shoulder and instead of being the enemy out to build a better offer than anything he could put together, she was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, happy woman in a breezy sundress posed in front of the old farmhouse as though she was a model spokesperson to sell relaxing vacations. She seemed to fit the landscape perfectly and at the same time made him wonder what it would be like to be the man who put the smile on her face.
That smile was dangerous. Land-mine dangerous.
Determined to get things back on track, and Dr. Elaine Watson chugging down the washed-out road as quickly as possible, Dean roughly cleared his throat. “Well, you’re here now. Might as well get the whole tired picture.”
When she turned her eyes to him, he was thankful for the glass lenses, which were probably the only things saving him from incineration. She didn’t miss a thing, and as she assessed him from head to toe, he was aware again that he’d dressed as if his only choices were in the Lost and Found. “Sorry. If I’d known we were having company, I’d have put on my dress flip-flops.”
Dr. Watson didn’t like him, didn’t want to like him, and the sharp eyes of a competitor were easy to see. She was here to win. When his father frowned at him, Dean almost apologized, but then her cool smile made him double down. She obviously had her act together while everything about him was scattered across the globe. She could put up with ratty flip-flops for a few minutes.
But her charmed smile and the way his father stepped up to offer her his arm made it crystal clear how weak his own position was. He followed them up the steps and watched the doctor spin around to take in the view, the best part of the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. The inn was situated on a peaceful cove of Spring Lake, so there wasn’t much traffic close to the shore. It felt like the three of them were the only people on the planet. The falling-down boat slips ruined the view a little, but he could picture them the way his mother had insisted: clean with fresh paint, a shiny red metal roof on top and an American flag blowing in the breeze.
Since his plan was to run the whole place as a fishing camp, restoring the docks and adding a small marina store would be his first project. Fishermen didn’t really need fresh paint or new carpet, but they had to have a spot to keep the boat.
“I could stay right here all day,” Elaine said and stretched her arms out wide.
“Not much excitement compared to your waiting room or the emergency clinic,” his father answered.
“That’s why I need it.” Elaine glanced at Dean and then quickly looked away, probably to see if he understood her motivation. He did. But she and her...neatness were annoying.
He propped his hands on his hips and studied the view. Somehow the restlessness eased while he was standing here, looking past the overgrown yard to the calm waters of Spring Lake. Had to be the setting. The company was not soothing at all. Maybe the magic of home was finally starting to work.
“Let’s see the inside,” Elaine said and towed his father to the ancient screen door. The paint, which had once been a bright blue, was peeling, but it could be restored easily. That door fit the character of the Bluebird perfectly even if the pop as it slammed shut could make him jerk as if he’d heard a gunshot.
His father opened the door, and they stepped inside. The view was not inspiring. Dry, scratched hardwoods that had gleamed like mirrors when his mother ran the place, wallpaper that was in excellent shape if twenty years out of date and dust-covered furniture. His father used only the living quarters upstairs, so the bottom floor was frozen in time. Preserved, but not alive.
Except for the kitchen.
As he trailed the exploration party, he heard Elaine say, “Well, it looks like it could use some updating. Do all the appliances work?”
He’d had the same question. As far as he could tell, his father lived on cereal and sandwiches. As long as the refrigerator was running, he was set. The fact that she didn’t make a big deal out of the biggest deal said something about how Dr. Watson played the game.
“Yep, stove, fridge, whatever’s here works.” His dad ran a hand through his hair as if he wasn’t quite sure how to address the most obvious problem in the room. “And all the cabinets...well...”
There wasn’t much to say about that. The fact that they were all missing made it clear what he was talking about.
“I decided it was silly to have the old Bluebird sitting empty, but I knew reopening was going to take some renovation.” His dad shrugged.
“So you started with the kitchen.” Elaine nodded as if she approved. “And are you going to—” she waved a hand vaguely “—finish?”
“Nah, I remembered why I hadn’t taken on any DIY projects in twenty-plus years.” His father opened the refrigerator door to show the good doctor that it was fully functional.
When Elaine glanced at him for help, Dean had to shrug his shoulders. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him, either, but he’d had some time for the state of the kitchen to sink in.
“Why is that, Mr. Collins?” She tilted her head to the side as if she was so very curious about why anyone would leave a kitchen torn up like this one. It was a valid question.
“I hate DIY projects.” His father grimaced. “That’s why I didn’t do them when Martha was alive and why I had no problem letting everything ride after she died. Eventually, even the regulars started staying at the chain hotel in Lawrence.” He toed the peeling linoleum. “I purely hate construction of any kind. Been running the place so long, it was nice to have a vacation. All that money we saved for someday, when we could retire to see the world, kept the lights on. And I’d rather fish. So I did.”
“Because you could,” Dean added. “I don’t blame you a bit. And you should say that Mom wouldn’t let you tackle any home improvements.”
Then he leaned closer to the doctor. “Very bad for his blood pressure and hers, if I recall correctly.” He was irritated she didn’t at least smile in return. He hadn’t spent a lot of time charming women lately, but surely he hadn’t completely lost his touch. If she liked him, maybe she’d back off, drop her offer.
Her small frown was cuter than it should be. Dr. Elaine Watson was obviously conscientious if a mention of his dad’s blood pressure could concern her even on her days off.
“Do you still have the cabinets?” she asked as she turned away from Dean. “Maybe I could get someone to put them back in.” The look she shot him suggested that maybe he should have already taken care of it. Dean considered his father and wondered if there was more to the story than he knew. Why was she giving him a glare that said, “Why aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“Hey, I’m not all that handy myself,” Dean said with a laugh. “That must be genetic, but we could hire someone to put the cabinets in. I’m sure they’re exactly what I need when I open the Tall Pines Fish Camp.”
“Fish camp?” Elaine wrinkled her nose as if she could already pick up a whiff of lake water and fish scales. “What a waste of this space.”
Annoyed again, Dean sent a pointed look around the gutted kitchen. “Or maybe exactly the right solution. Fishermen don’t need granite countertops. I could have this place up and running in no time.”
Elaine’s snort stopped him in his tracks. His father tried to hide a grin behind a cough. “Did I say something funny?”
“I’m sure they’re going to love the antiques in the front room and the morning-glory wallpaper that covers your entry.”
Morning glories. Finally! He’d been racking his brain to try to remember what the blue flowers were. His mother had loved them and babied a couple of vines in her garden. He wondered if they’d survived the neglect.
Dean was determined to ignore the doctor’s very good point. He would have to get a bigger television and some comfortable chairs. If he recalled correctly, most of the furniture in the front room looked like reproductions from an era when people were smaller and chair legs could be much fussier.
“Maybe the kitchen would work for your fish camp,” she said with a grimace, “but I bet I could open before you would.”
“Really.” He didn’t believe her for a minute. She was a doctor. He doubted she’d ever swung a hammer in her life. He was unemployed, with all the time in the world. Demolition might be his only contribution, but he wasn’t afraid of hard physical work. There was no question as to who would win this race.
“When I want something badly, I don’t waste time. You’d be shocked how quickly I could get this building restored and open for business.” One corner of her mouth turned up, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the fire of determination in her eyes. “Bet on it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have to. This is my home. My father’s already promised to let me give it a shot. I’m going to make my changes on my own timeline. You lose.”
Her lips tightened, and she closed her eyes for two seconds. “Of course. You’re right. I’d forgotten in the excitement of seeing the Bluebird.” She stepped back. “Thank you for the tour, Mr. Collins.” She held out her hand. Dean reluctantly shook it. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Then she smiled at his father. “When this fails, Mr. Collins, please give me a shot. As long as the building’s still standing, I’m interested in having my chance.”
Dean held up one hand. “When it fails?”
“Of course, I should have said if,” Elaine replied, but the look on her face didn’t seem to match her words. She wasn’t going to back down.
“Explain to me why I’m going to fail,” Dean answered.
“Well, one look at you says you’re not big on...planning ahead.” Her frosty gaze might have raised goose bumps if it hadn’t been a lovely summer day. “A renovation like this requires planning, marketing, new staff. You’re going to need money. Do you even have a business plan?”
Her doubts were clear. The fact was he didn’t have a plan. But he’d need one. He had some savings, but getting his camp set up would take a lot of cash. A new marina wouldn’t be cheap. Mortgaging his home to finance a gamble without a detailed schedule and some consideration of how he might cover the payments was crazy. His confidence took a hit, but the only way to deal with a situation like this was to pretend everything was under control.
Convincing his dad he could handle the details was critical.
“And you’re interested in having your chance for what? To move into an inn with eight guest rooms...all by yourself.” He didn’t have to ask about a husband or kids. No ring. No doubt she was focusing on her career. “Kind of a big house for a single woman. All alone. Out here by yourself with the wildlife.”
Elaine opened her mouth and then closed it. She raised one finger. “I’m only going to say this because...” Her lips tightened to swallow whatever it was she planned to add. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
She headed for the entryway. “Mr. Collins, I hope this works out, for your sake.”
“Everybody just...wait.” His father’s voice was loud, and Dean could hear the anger bubbling under the surface. He wasn’t sure Elaine was going to stop, but she jerked to a halt next to the door.
“Before this goes too far, I’ve got something to say.” His dad narrowed his eyes, and Dean got the impression that he’d better keep his mouth zipped until his dad was done.
“Dean, you’re my son. I want you to have this place if it will...I don’t know, make you happy. But,” he said as he held up a hand, “this woman saved my life. And she loves the place.”
“Saved your life?” Dean said as he rubbed his forehead. “What does that mean?”
“I only did my job,” Elaine said and crossed her arms. “Any other doctor would have done the same.”
“Somebody tell me what we’re talking about.” Dean propped his hands on his hips. “Now.”
The sudden tightness in his chest made it hard to breathe.
Elaine’s eyebrows rose, and Dean got the impression there was only one thing she was interested in telling him, and that was exactly where to get off.
“I went into the emergency clinic with chest pains. That’s all. I’m fine.” His father tried a reassuring smile, but it looked so wrong on him that Dean said, “No way. You didn’t tell me any of this. When?” He turned to the doctor because he was certain he stood a better chance of getting a straight answer from her.
“It’s been almost two years. He’s done great since then. Takes his meds. Lost some weight.” She shrugged. “And he’s making a change for the better with this new plan to hit the road. He’s a model patient, actually. That’s rare.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now. Let’s come up with some suggestions on what to do here.” His father paced in a small circle on the dull hardwoods.
He and Elaine stared at each other for a long second, and he wondered if she felt the same tension he did. When her cheeks turned a pale pink and she looked away, he thought maybe she did.
“How about a real bet?” His father paused. “I’ll hit the road. You’ll both have time to make plans, figure out the money and talk to the bank. I’ll listen to both proposals and decide based on what’s best for the Bluebird. A month? How’s that?”
Elaine looked as if she was about to argue. He could almost see the dueling urges on her face. She wanted the Bluebird, but she needed to do the right thing. He waited to see which would win.
And he braced himself when she stepped up next to him.
“It’s a bet.” She held out her hand.
“I love a challenge,” Dean said as he gripped her hand, surprised again at the warmth that spread from her to him. “This could be what I was looking for.”
“I guess we’ll see.” The smile was back. A simple curve of her lips that gave her eyes a sparkle. The way Dean’s world shifted in that second worried him. He’d started the game. He had no choice but to win. Unless the Bluebird worked its magic, he was lost.
* * *
ELAINE TRIED TO understand the emotion in Dean’s eyes. For a split second she’d thought it was fear or maybe worry, but that didn’t make any sense. He was a guy who traveled the world, photographed wars and looked supremely confident in ratty clothes. On top of that, he was family. If anyone was a solid contender, it was him. Had her certainty that the fish camp was a bad idea convinced him to reconsider his plans?
“Well,” Robert said, looking from her to Dean and back, “good. That’s settled. Got an appointment with a contractor tomorrow. Here’s what we’ll do. Get him to take a look, maybe give you estimates on what you’d like to renovate.”
Elaine refused to take a step back even though she was closer to Dean Collins than she was strictly comfortable with. She could see he had hazel eyes, a mix of brown and green that was warm and possibly too intelligent for an easy win. Getting this close to him was a bad idea for a long list of reasons. Still, she was not going to back down. Not now. He’d made his opinion of her clear. He thought she was a fragile flower. He was wrong.
When Robert coughed quietly, she and Dean both turned.
“How will you decide a winner?” Elaine asked.
Dean’s snort set her teeth on edge, and she did her best to forget her own snort of disbelief earlier. Maybe turnabout snorting was fair play.
She and Dean watched Robert think. He paced. He cracked his knuckles. He opened his mouth and changed his mind twice.
Then he said, “We’ll get judges. That’s the fairest thing. All three of us. That way, an impartial panel will decide what’s best for the Bluebird and for Tall Pines.”
“And you don’t have to disappoint either one of us.” Elaine raised her eyebrows.
“Why, I never thought of that,” Robert said and smiled. “Excellent point, Doc. I like this plan. What do you think?”
Dean ran his hands through messy, dark curls that were entirely too long. Men should not have such nice hair. It was unfair. Of course, he looked as if he’d combed it with a pasta fork.
“Fine with me.” Dean’s gaze locked with hers, and she experienced again the breathless awareness she’d felt when she stepped out of her car to see him there, a part of her favorite view in the world.
She wouldn’t let it rattle her.
She was going to give this her best shot. After all, she’d played to win her whole life. Even though she’d built the busiest medical practice in the area, she needed to strengthen her position. The judges would have a hard time choosing her over Dean, Robert’s son and a hometown boy. She raised her chin and nodded. “Me, too, but I think I should move in while I’m planning.”
Dean shook his head while Robert smiled broadly. “Great idea. Give you a real good feel for what it’ll take to put it back together.”
They both turned to Dean. He waved his hands in surrender. “Fine. Plenty of space. Just don’t expect room service.”
Robert clapped his hands once loudly. “Good. Let’s get this show on the road. Pack a bag. Move in. Meet with the contractor tomorrow if you’ve got time.” He put one hand on the small of her back and started to escort her onto the porch. Elaine managed to keep the satisfied smile from creeping through.
“If you don’t mind, Dad, I’d like to talk with Dr. Watson.” Dean followed them out. “Alone.”
Robert responded eloquently without saying a word. There was a threat in his eyes. Dean had better be on his best behavior.
Elaine had to fight the smile that came with the shot of pleasure that someone was looking out for her. Dean raised his hands in surrender, and Robert disappeared inside.
“I’m not sure you’ll have as much privacy as you want, but feel free to say whatever it is that’s bothering you, Mr. Collins.” She adjusted her purse strap and studied the view carefully. This would be no harder than talking to any other upset family member. Doctors spent a lot of time delivering bad news and listening to complaints.
Dean checked inside the shadowed foyer. “You could be right. Two things.” He held up two fingers, probably so he wouldn’t lose his spot in the conversation.
At the unkind thought, Elaine knew she had to take her competitiveness down a notch. There was no need to get nasty. Ever.
Even if she knew how to.
“Call me Dean. Call him Robert. Otherwise, this whole thing is going to get weird,” Dean said as he eased into a creaky rocking chair and motioned her to the other one.
She studied the peeling paint before she sat. “Fine. And?”
“Tell me why this means so much to you.”
She tilted her head, hoping he could read what she thought about his tone.
“Fine. Please. I want to understand.” He eased the rocking chair into motion, and the rhythmic creak combined with the cool shade and the stillness of the lake made it easy to answer his question, if only to sit there a few minutes longer.
“The last time I visited, I was twelve. Like most twelve-year-old girls, I wished things were different. My mother wanted me to wear my hair down and try makeup, and my dad wanted me to keep my mother happy while he did his own thing. But Mom loved this place, and she loved drinking tea on this porch. And your mother was so kind that we all somehow got along when we were here.” Elaine started rocking back and forth, too, her creaks a perfect counterpoint to his. “Then my parents divorced. Loudly. We never came back to the Bluebird or Tall Pines.”
Dean contemplated the shoreline. “So it’s got some good memories. I can understand that. Is that enough reason to spend this much time and money? Maybe the money doesn’t matter to someone like you. Couldn’t you make nice memories somewhere else?”
“Couldn’t you?” Elaine asked. “No, of course not. They’re memories, Dean. Nothing is the same now. My father is happily remarried with a nice wife and a new family. And my mother is...well, she’s not as settled. These are the memories I want to keep.”
“At the expense of mine?” He didn’t look at her, and it was a good thing.
This was the troublesome point—the idea that she would cause Robert any pain by getting what she wanted. If Dean and Robert were strangers, she’d get the Bluebird. There was no question in her mind. This concern for Robert hampered her efforts.
Now that she knew his father had kept his health problems a secret, she was more forgiving of Dean’s time away. Exciting careers could take over a life easily. Being a doctor didn’t often involve the risks he took, but the adrenaline rush could be intense.
“It seems you’ve done fine through the years with the memories alone. Why is now any different?” Maybe she couldn’t go for the kill. That didn’t mean she had to give in.
“It just is. Now is different. I’m different. And it matters.” Dean stood and waited for her to get the picture that this conversation was over.
“Are you sure you can abide by this competition?” Elaine asked as she slowly walked down the steps toward her car. “Tell me here and now, before I pack my bags and drive down that road again. I’ll back down before I cause your father any pain.”
“But it will kill you to throw in the towel before anyone rings the bell.” Dean glanced toward the foyer and nodded. “Yes, to prove to my father that I have what it takes, including the commitment to stick this out, I will agree to the bet and the rules, but I intend to win.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_666a2d6f-70d3-579b-96af-037d8a7e7293)
DEAN STEPPED INSIDE and shut the door, snapping Elaine out of her reverie. “Rude,” she muttered and got into her car.
She made her way to the highway. In the middle of making a mental list of the things she’d have to pack, her phone rang, and she hit the hands-free button to talk. “Hi, Mom.” She didn’t even have to look. It had to be her mother.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I’d make sure you’re okay.”
A while meaning approximately two hours. Checking to make sure she was okay was more about her mother not being okay. “I’m fine. What’s up?”
“Oh, not much. I started thinking about the reception we had and how you and Jerry argued about the proper way to serve red wine. Remember, he was certain it had to be warm, and you said to chill the wine and warm it in the hand? What an impression you must have made on your new stepfather. I thought that was the craziest thing to argue about.” Her voice broke on the last word. “You’re so much like your father sometimes. So smart. Even when you were a little girl, I’d listen to the two of you talk and just...marvel.”
Elaine couldn’t recall the wine conversation. She and her mother’s last husband, Jerry, had often agreed to disagree, but she’d never intended to cause friction in any of her mother’s marriages.
Being compared to her father didn’t surprise her at all.
Elaine could remember the days when she’d hoped to be exactly like her father.
Now she was afraid that her wish had come true. He lived to work. Most days, she did, too.
“Mom, are you drinking wine by any chance?” Elaine parked in front of a small line of apartments. She’d lived here since she’d come to Tall Pines to satisfy the terms of the scholarship that had helped her get through medical school debt free.
“Yes.”
The hiccup made Elaine smile as she switched the call to her phone. She unlocked the door and asked, “How much?”
“It’s my...second glass.” Her mother’s answer was a relief. Maybe she was too emotional, but she’d never been a big drinker. Elaine could picture her mother perched on the end of her expensive couch, not a single hair of her carefully highlighted bob out of order. Even tipsy, she’d be well behaved and beautiful.
Sometimes Elaine wondered if she was the only person who saw the emotional, messy, ragged side of Catherine Stillman. She was the model hostess with lovely manners, but inside, her mother still seemed to be searching for something.
Elaine, on the other hand, always looked a bit frazzled. Her sundress was wrinkled after less than three hours, and the curls escaping her careful updo were driving her crazy. Scrubs and a ponytail fit her better.
And if she was searching for anything, it was the way things used to be.
“You know you’re going to be happy again, right? Have you thought about taking a class like we talked about?” Elaine pulled a bag out of her closet and started shoving clothes inside.
While she packed, she thought about all the activities her mother should consider instead of focusing on how she didn’t have a husband anymore. A part-time job, a class at the community college, a new hobby or a trip to someplace she’d always dreamed of. They were all reasonable, fun options. If Elaine’s schedule ever cleared up, she might give something on the list a try herself. As always, her mother had one answer. “I don’t want to do that by myself.”
“Mom, do you remember the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast? The inn we used to visit here in Tall Pines?” Elaine crossed her fingers and hoped this didn’t lead to a meltdown.
“Sure, that pretty old farmhouse on the lake. Had the tastiest sugar cookies as I recall.” Her mother paused as she sipped her wine. “Your father fished, and we ruled the world from that shady porch. Those were nice times. Before your father ruined it all.”
Elaine took a deep breath. This was the tricky part. Any time her father came up in conversation, things could get out of control fast. “Yeah, so the owner is a patient. I took a trip out there today because he’s considering selling.”
“But you’re a doctor. What would you do with an inn? The last thing you need is another job. No, you should spend fewer hours working.” Her mother left off the advice to get married, have kids, probably because she didn’t want an argument, either.
“Maybe we could reopen it. Together. What would you think about that?” She held her breath while she waited for the answer.
“I’m not sure, Elaine. I mean, the memories...”
Her mother hadn’t said no. That was a new development. “It could be fun, but it may not work out anyway, so you’ve got time to consider it.”
“I will. I promise,” her mother said quietly. “Thanks for talking, Elaine. I swear, no more men. Ever. This time is different.”
Right. Elaine was sure she’d heard that the last time, too. And with the boyfriends in between, one of whom had been so steady and good for her mother she’d mourned him like...well, her own father. Her father wasn’t dead. He was just gone, content with his new wife and two sons.
Neither of whom were doctors.
Not yet anyway. There was still time, and her youngest brother did mention medical school now and then.
At least her mother’s wails had already quieted to grumbles. This seemed to indicate she was on the mend. The fact that she’d gotten there quicker than Elaine expected was a positive sign. There’d been surprisingly few bitter warnings about men or guilt trips about grandkids. Elaine was tired of hearing that all her mother’s problems would be solved if Elaine would just get married and have babies. Following her mother’s train of thought could be exhausting.
She’d had plenty of time to build up her endurance. When her father left, Elaine had picked up the pieces. Ever since, she’d hung on to the roller-coaster ride that was her mother. Relationships came and went, men were magic until they disappointed her and then Elaine was a lifeline.
She was used to the pattern by now, even if she tried to alter it.
Her mother was only three hours away, but Elaine was always working. When things were good, the distance was easy. Her mother’s happy phone conversations satisfied them both. When her mother was going through a breakup, the distance could be a relief.
“You aren’t planning to drive anywhere, are you, Mom?”
This time her mother gave a disbelieving grunt. “Do you think I’m crazy? I’m going to take a nap.”
“Sounds good. Call me tomorrow.” After her mother mumbled goodbye, Elaine tossed her phone on the couch cushion next to her purse, dropped down beside it and covered her eyes with both hands.
Taking a day off and doing anything other than laundry and napping was rare, but she was glad she’d made the trip out to see the Bluebird. If only Dean Collins wasn’t going to be such a problem. She had a small chance to beat him. Ignoring him was going to be a lot harder.
But leaving this economy apartment would be no problem. There were no pictures on the wall, and the only decoration she’d added was three small framed photos of her with her parents, all taken at award ceremonies. The furniture belonged to her landlord, Edna. Why she hadn’t done more to make the apartment feel like home was something she should consider long and hard. Some other time.
Today she was going to grab her bag, go back and move right in. She’d start leaving her stamp as soon as possible.
Men would come and go and take her mother’s sanity with them, but the Bluebird would last. Getting attached to the place that held such sweet memories only made sense.
“Hit the road, Elaine. There’ll be plenty of time to figure out the cure for your problems on that beautiful porch.”
She smiled at the idea and did her best to ignore the fact that she was talking to herself.
After one more quick trip through the closet and tiny bathroom, Elaine had enough necessities to get her through a week or so. She grabbed her bag and purse and locked up.
On her way to the Bluebird, she decided to take advantage of the rare combination of a beautiful day and free time, so she drove around the town square. Elaine was happy to see the tourists. Tall Pines was her new home, and almost everyone here depended on these visitors. Spring could be hit and miss, but now that the trees were blooming and temperatures were inching back up, shoppers wandered down the streets, bags in hand.
As a child, she’d loved every single one of these shops.
She stopped at a crosswalk and watched a boy who kept a serious stare locked on her car as he walked by, one hand grasped by his mother.
A few minutes later, as she headed down the rutted road toward the Bluebird, Elaine wondered whether reopening the inn could help draw even more tourists to her adopted hometown.
She parked next to a dilapidated Jeep that had to belong to Dean Collins. It matched his wardrobe perfectly.
She grabbed her bag and thought about honking the horn, just to let him know she was back and ready to get started. The kitchen was appalling, every room required work and the whole farmhouse needed a coat of paint, but the potential was all there.
Elaine was hit by an unexpected wave of excitement. The renovation would be expensive and a lot of hard work, but the reward, a home that connected her to some of the happiest times in her life, was worth it. She couldn’t remember wanting anything as much as she wanted this.
In only one day, she’d pinned her hopes on a long shot.
Okay, Elaine, too emotional. Take a deep breath.
She did. Then she got out of the car like a totally rational person and almost made it to the steps when she could feel someone watching her. Dean was near the dock again. Deciding that she should begin as she meant to go on, she marched down to meet him.
“I’m back.” What a terrible opening line, Dr. Obvious. “Which room should I take?”
He waved his filleting knife, and they both watched a bit of...fillet plop into the water. Dean studied her face, waiting for a reaction. She stepped closer. “Hmm, you’d never make it as a surgeon.”
Then she raised her eyebrows at him. She was a doctor. A little bit of gore had no effect on her.
“Take any guest room you want. They’re all the same. Dusty. Stuck in the past.”
She nodded. “Okay. Thank goodness that’s easy enough to change.” Pleased with that parting line, she spun on one heel and bit back a curse as she nearly toppled right off the dock. Determined not to look at him, she pretended she was absorbed by the beauty of the inn. And she was, even if it was hard to see.
For the first time in a while, taking a break from the emergency clinic seemed like a good plan. She could weed the garden, try to rescue Martha Collins’s roses.
Before she went inside, she paused to look at the bluebird boxes on the hill. She couldn’t see any birds, but she remembered how much she’d loved to wait for them. Before the trips to the inn, she’d never seen a bluebird, so every single sighting had added to the magic of Spring Lake. Her parents got along here. Her mother smiled, and her father laughed.
Even then she’d been more scientist than fairy-tale princess, but the bluebirds seemed to promise happy endings. The nesting boxes had faded like the rest of the place. She should research how to fix them up. The Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast needed bluebirds.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_e6d29112-c00c-538f-adad-97e4f248db73)
AFTER A LONG, sleepless night, Dean slipped out the front door and headed to the dock. The sun was rising over the lake. Watching the light spread across the calm surface was the only compensation for being unable to close his eyes without nightmares shaking him awake. A week of peaceful mornings like this had started to work a little of the familiar magic.
He cast his line and pretended to fish. If his father saw him, maybe he’d see it as a sign of progress. And maybe he’d decide to join him.
Steady, quick footfalls distracted him from his accidental meditation. He looked over his shoulder and winced at the morning stiffness of his old injuries, large and small. Elaine Watson didn’t even glance his direction as she ran by.
Joggers usually seemed to be suffering, but Elaine’s face was as calm as his own. And she was fast.
Of course she was. He had a feeling if she committed to something, she did it well. She probably ran because it was good exercise, but she excelled at it because she saw no other option.
“Must be exhausting.” He’d never aspired to be the best. Adventure and the chance to make a difference had been enough to keep him going. For a long time anyway.
Anyone who became a doctor had to have that same desire to help, didn’t she?
Dean’s shoulders slumped as he turned back to the water and closed his eyes. He didn’t really want to have anything in common with Elaine Watson.
“Jogging? Probably is exhausting.” His father held out a mug and sat next to him. “Guess it doesn’t matter if you enjoy it.”
Dean sipped his hot black coffee and felt the satisfaction spread all the way to his bones. “Thanks, Dad. This hits the spot.”
“Don’t tell the doctor. Little bit of caffeine’s good for the soul, I’m convinced.” His father cast his line, and neither one of them said anything for the longest time. The fish weren’t biting. Everything was quiet.
His father’s silence matched Dean’s mood. The tense restlessness was missing, and Dean appreciated the break. They were both content to sit there, staring out across the lake. He lost track of how long he waited for a bite.
“I’ve missed this,” Dean said. “Peace. Quiet.” He lifted his fishing rod and reeled in his useless bait. He might do better with a new lure, but that would require effort. This morning was nearly flawless as it was. He shifted, cast his line again and ignored the mental picture of Elaine’s disapproving stare.
“No one trying to shoot you with a long-range scope. No threats of drinking bad water or falling off a mountain.” His dad sighed. “It’s the little things.”
Dean’s rusty laugh was loud in the still morning. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“If your mother was around, she’d already have us jumping, ticking off the to-do list.” The click of his father’s reel was comforting, a sound that would always remind him of home.
“I expected the doctor to have already sounded an alarm, mustered the troops and conquered something.” Dean checked his watch, the one he could dump now that he was back in Tall Pines. Everything moved at its own pace in this town. “I mean, it’s almost eight. Daylight’s wasting.”
His father nodded. “You could both stand to do a better job at relaxing.”
“I am sitting at the end of a dock, not catching fish. It doesn’t get any more relaxed than this.” Dean shifted his pole and watched the ripples in the water.
“Sure. After staring out the window all night long. I bet that’s pretty relaxing, too.” His dad didn’t look at him when he added, “We have a doctor in the house. She might be able to help.”
“I don’t need any help,” Dean snapped. “I’m fine.”
How did his father know about his long nights? Dean stood up so quickly he had to take a step back from the edge of the dock or risk landing in the lake. Another surge of those ridiculous emotions, this time anger. He had to get a grip.
“Sorry, Dad. I appreciate you worrying about me, but losing sleep is no big deal. I’m sure once I settle in to the routine, that’ll get better. Maybe I’m still in the wrong time zone.” The one where bad memories lurked.
“Sure.” His dad glanced at him over his shoulder. “And maybe it’ll take you a while to see that you could use some help. Believe me, I understand that. When you get the help you need, you’ll wish you hadn’t waited. I have Elaine to thank for that bit of wisdom.”
Instead of tossing his fishing pole into the water to make a loud, satisfying splash, Dean carefully reeled his line in. He’d been mulling over yesterday’s revelation that the doctor had saved his father’s life. “Care to explain why you couldn’t tell me about your health scare, Dad?” He didn’t want to start a fight, but he had to know. “Seems like a heart attack or whatever it was would make the weekly update.”
His dad sipped his coffee, and Dean wasn’t sure he was going to answer.
“Did you believe I wouldn’t care?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, afraid of the answer. Just like that, it was hard to catch his breath again.
“You know, some things are hard to put into words.” His father didn’t turn to look at him. “Losing my wife was the hardest thing I ever lived through, but watching my son lose his mother...I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get over.”
Amazed at the sting of tears behind his eyelids, Dean tried to clear the lump in his throat.
“I didn’t want you to come home,” Robert said. “I couldn’t stand to watch you do it again. I love you too much for that.” His dad sipped his coffee calmly, as though he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.
Watching his dad in the days after his mother’s death, seeing him act like the whole world hadn’t ended, had hurt. Dean had wanted the loss to show. After that, Dean was eager to do whatever it took to make the new world different from the old one, the one where she’d held everything together.
Maybe his father had been trying to make things better, by pretending nothing had changed. That was something he’d never have understood then.
Dean scrubbed his hands over his face and thought about dropping the conversation right there. Instead, he squatted and draped his arm around his dad’s shoulders, startling them both. “Are you insane? You should have told me. I would have been here as fast as I could, and I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. I guess I didn’t know how to say that.”
His father wrapped his hand around Dean’s. “Sure. I feel the same way. Not knowing what you’re going through is a real problem. That’s true whether you’re in Afghanistan or right down the hall. I want you to be happy, no matter what else happens.”
Dean choked back his tears. “I get it. I’ll tell you more, okay? But I’m going to be safe and sound, rebuilding the Bluebird. I’m glad you’ll be traveling, sending me frequent photos so I can live vicariously through you.”
His dad laughed. “Right. Send snapshots to the famous photographer. We’ll see.”
Dean stood up. “You don’t have to worry, Dad. I’m okay.”
He nodded. “I am, too, thanks to the doc. She could help you.”
Annoyed all over again that she’d been allowed to help when he’d been completely out of the loop, Dean tapped one finger on his thigh. “I’ll make sure I tell her how much I appreciate everything she did for you.” But he wouldn’t give up on his plan. He needed this place.
Before he could argue or explain why his case was not the same as his dad’s heart problems, he could hear a car coming down the road. “Sounds like the contractor’s here.”
They both ambled up the hill to meet the guy sliding out of his truck. “Robert, nice to see you. And you must be Dean. I’m Nick.” Dean shook his hand and watched his face as he surveyed the porch and ragged front yard. “Where should we start?”
“How about we finish introductions first?” They turned to see Elaine standing on the front porch, hands braced on her hips.
If anyone had doubts about the benefits of running, one look at Elaine in her bright red shorts and spotless white shirt should answer them. He had to admire her commitment to her plans, but at that moment, he was struck again by how well she fit against the backdrop of the Bluebird. He had no doubt that if she were in charge, the inn would shine as bright as her eyes in the warm morning sunshine.
Dean could understand his father’s dilemma, too. Given a choice of people to entrust with something as important as the family business, he might go with Elaine. She inspired confidence.
“Dr. Watson, we already know each other.” Nick glanced at Robert for direction.
“What the doctor means is that Elaine and Dean here are both thinking about taking over the inn. So instead of the minor repairs I had in mind, we’re going to start with a tour, get some idea of the improvements each of them wants to make. And the costs. All right with you?”
Nick tapped his pencil against his clipboard. “They’re not renovating together, right? So they’re probably going to have different inspiration?”
“Oh, yeah,” Dean said.
Elaine smiled at his dry answer. When their eyes met, her amusement was irresistible. He fought the chuckle but couldn’t help the way his lips turned up. The thrill of making a pretty girl smile never got old.
Get a grip, man. She’s the enemy, not the cool girl you’re trying to impress.
Nick sighed. “All right. Let’s give it a shot. First priority is...”
“The kitchen,” Dean and Elaine said together. She opened the door and waited for them to follow her inside.
“Where exactly are the cabinets?” Nick asked and kicked at the linoleum. “And what happened to the floor?”
“DIY gone wrong. We’ll need the floor repaired and the cabinets replaced. Everything else works.” Dean turned to move on, but Elaine held up a hand.
“Except if this is going to be a bed-and-breakfast again, the kitchen will have to be updated. New cabinets, counters, stainless steel.” She shrugged. “It’s what visitors would expect, and I want this to be a gathering spot, somewhere guests feel comfortable hanging out and making conversation. We won’t do a meal service, but the continental breakfast will be served right here.” Just as it had been when his mother ran the place and the rose tiles in the backsplash had been quaint instead of faded.
Nick glanced from Dean to Elaine. “Big difference in those plans.”
“Fishermen will be content with new linoleum and the old cabinets as long as everything works. Besides, those cabinets were originals. People like antiques, right?” Dean said. “I’ll spend that money on a new marina, where they’ll really appreciate it.”
“A marina?” Nick clapped his hands together. “Now that’s a project I could get excited about.”
Elaine turned toward his father as though she was appealing for backup.
So Dean did the same.
And his father backed right out of the sticky situation.
“Well, now, the cabinets are out in the garage so... Let’s finish up in here first. Then we can take a look at the dock.” Robert led them down the hall.
“We’ll definitely want to take the wallpaper down,” Nick said. “Maybe paint a neutral color. White’s good. Refinish the floors.”
Dean motioned above the railing. “We could mount fish or maybe pictures of big catches. Keep a record that way.”
“No way is that wallpaper going anywhere. It’s in fine shape, and I like it.” Elaine draped an arm over the carved banister, her lips twisted in disapproval. “When I think of the Bluebird, I remember these morning glories. My visitors will appreciate a touch of the past while they’re enjoying the new conveniences like stainless steel. That’s why I’ll invest in the guest rooms.” Then she raised an eyebrow.
He could see where she was coming from. When guests thought about the Bluebird, they’d probably remember that wallpaper fondly. It reminded him of his mother.
Watching it go would hurt, but he had to move forward.
The change would be good for him and for the Bluebird.
Again they turned to his father, and again he declined to offer an opinion.
Nick glanced from Elaine to Dean. “Well...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe we look around outside.”
They headed down the hill. “We’ll expand these docks, repair the boat slips, add a small marina, maybe fifteen by twenty feet, to sell bait and a few convenience items.” Dean walked along the shoreline and pointed at the end of the dock. “What do you think? Wouldn’t be too expensive to build here, would it?”
Elaine tapped her foot impatiently but before she could fire off a rebuttal, Robert turned and studied the house. “Block the view of the cove, you mean?”
Dean stared out over the lake. Surely the added revenue would justify a partially blocked view. It would be a big, satisfying change, a way to make his mark.
“Is the marina something you guys agree on?” Nick asked. Dean and Elaine both shook their heads firmly. “Of course not.”
Robert sighed. “Maybe it’s too soon. New plan. Let them write up a list, maybe do some drawings or something. Then you can quote them separately and save yourself some confusion.”
“Perfect. You guys call me in a week or so, and we’ll set something up.” Nick walked to his truck and didn’t look back. He had his phone to his ear as he reversed down the gravel drive, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust.
They walked slowly up to the porch and inside the disputed territory. “We could have at least had the cabinets put in, even if it was only temporarily. Surely we can agree on that,” Elaine said.
“I can live with the kitchen as is for a few weeks. Can you?” Dean watched her roll her eyes.
“Of course, but we didn’t have to. That’s all I’m saying.” She straightened her glasses. “Not making easy decisions because we’re on opposite sides of the fence is just silly.”
She was right. He hated that.
Letting her be the reasonable one was a dangerous precedent. Before he could figure out the best recovery, his father held a hand up. “And on that note, I have an announcement. I’m leaving. Today. Now. You kids can work all this out, so wow me with great ideas when I get back.” Then he ran up the stairs, two at a time.
Dean thought about demanding to see his medical records. His dad didn’t act like a man with a heart condition.
He acted like a man making a quick getaway.
* * *
WHEN DEAN WENT in the opposite direction, right out the door and down to the dock, Elaine considered following Robert and explaining why he had to stay a bit longer. He was her only hope.
If he left...
Well, she would be on her own. With Dean at close range. The idea of arguing with him didn’t bother her, but if she got to know him...beating him would be so much harder. Robert was a buffer.
But she’d been fighting her own battles for years. She could handle this.
Elaine paced in the small foyer and lectured herself on getting too worked up over the situation. That was not what the Bluebird was about.
Her phone rang, and she realized she already had plenty of things to worry about. This was supposed to be her new hobby, something she enjoyed.
She stepped out onto the porch, slipped into the rocker that was going to be her chair and answered. “Morning, Mom. How are you?” They made their usual small talk and finally her mother said, “I’ve been thinking about your inn. Maybe I should visit. It’s been a long time. I want to see what you’re excited about.”
Elaine blinked and then took a look around the porch and yard, neither of which were anything to get excited about. “Wow, I didn’t expect that. There’s no guarantee that I’ll get the place, but you could definitely come for a visit. See what you think. Just give me a couple of weeks.”
“Great. I signed up for a cooking camp at the community college. It starts next week. I’ll come up after and impress you with all I’ve learned. How’s that? I’m actually taking your advice.”
“That is a surprise. I’m a doctor. I’m used to people ignoring my advice.”
Elaine checked her phone display to make sure her mother’s name was showing. Her clear, reasonable tone of voice was nice this early in recovery. “I’d love to see you, Mom.”
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