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Her Fresh Start Family
Lorraine Beatty
A new life. A new love.But will secrets tear them apart?Struggling with a tragic loss, widow Nina Johnson seeks a fresh start in a Southern small town. Then she meets handsome veteran Bret Sinclair and his sweet daughters. Bret's no stranger to loss, and his companionship is the solace Nina’s been searching for. Until a dark secret from Bret’s past is exposed, threatening to break these Mississippi Hearts.


A new life. A new love.
But will secrets tear them apart?
Struggling with a tragic loss, widow Nina Johnson seeks a fresh start in a Southern small town. Then she meets handsome veteran Bret Sinclair and his sweet daughters. Bret’s no stranger to loss, and his companionship is the solace Nina’s been searching for. Until a dark secret from Bret’s past is exposed, threatening to break these Mississippi Hearts.
LORRAINE BEATTY was raised in Columbus, Ohio, but now calls Mississippi home. She and her husband, Joe, have two sons and five grandchildren. Lorraine started writing in junior high and is a member of RWA and ACFW, and is a charter member and past president of Magnolia State Romance Writers. In her spare time she likes to work in her garden, travel and spend time with her family.
Also By Lorraine Beatty (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a)
Love Inspired
Mississippi Hearts
Her Fresh Start Family
Home to Dover
Protecting the Widow’s Heart
His Small-Town Family
Bachelor to the Rescue
Her Christmas Hero
The Nanny’s Secret Child
A Mom for Christmas
The Lawman’s Secret Son
Her Handyman Hero
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Her Fresh Start Family
Lorraine Beatty


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08431-4
HER FRESH START FAMILY
© 2018 Lorraine Beatty
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
The sight of Bret’s two girls… The memories Nina kept locked away came surging back. She gritted her teeth and tried to look pleasant.
The girls said hello, big smiles on their sweet faces.
Bret’s expression faded from that of a proud parent to deep concern. She should explain, but her heart was being shredded.
“Girls, why don’t you go back to my office? I’ll be there in a minute.”
The minute the girls were gone, she wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Are you all right? I never considered that you might not like children.”
“I like children.”
“Really? You went pale as a ghost.”
“I was surprised, that’s all.” Tears filled her eyes.
“Nina. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” The sob escaped her throat.
Bret steered her toward the sofa and sat beside her. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”
She stared into Bret’s eyes. He was safe. Trustworthy. Why was it so hard to say the words?
“I had a daughter. She died. Five years ago today.”
This is the day which the Lord hath made;
we will rejoice and be glad in it.
—Psalms 118:24
Dear Reader (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a),
Welcome to the first book in my new series. We’ll be visiting a small city in Mississippi and three widows as they move forward and learn to love again.
This is a story I’ve wanted to write for a very long time, but it kept getting shoved into the background. When I finally started to work on it, I discovered it was going to be one of the most difficult stories I’d ever done. Dealing with Bret and Nina’s grief and guilt was challenging, but as I worked through the story, the two characters became special to me.
Both Bret and Nina struggled with the inability to forgive themselves for past failures. In reality, neither one was to blame. When something bad happens, we want answers. We want to know why, and we want a reason so we can make sense of the terrible loss. But we must accept that God chose to give His creation free will, which can bring about painful events.
We are all guilty of harboring resentment and allowing grief to paralyze our recovery. Only by giving their grief and guilt to the Lord, completely, were Bret and Nina able to let go of their burden and find the courage to love and trust one another and step into their bright new future together.
I hope while reading this story you are able to find your way to forgiveness of yourself or someone else. It’s what the Lord wants you to do.
All the best,
Lorraine
To my mother-in-law, Mary Beatty. You are one of my greatest blessings.
Contents
Cover (#u69f34af5-77fc-5860-b960-e9eb2f6e38c7)
Back Cover Text (#ud686ad90-363a-5541-9f3a-4d2c76cfbcc7)
About the Author (#ub43a7c4e-8fd2-5019-9431-14d26a1a7876)
Booklist (#u3969a9d5-56c8-5475-99be-921f3ddcaa66)
Title Page (#u1af5a473-f546-5467-b5e1-b068abf1c74b)
Copyright (#u4240026a-62be-54da-987e-314553049e7c)
Introduction (#u45609030-8371-5f69-b3c4-cf41524e8219)
Bible Verse (#u8e78e7f0-820f-53b0-acfe-2f91d3004829)
Dear Reader (#uc44c8348-2a9c-52e1-aab0-39ba2f35da10)
Dedication (#u17b84eb0-1ba4-5810-87b0-86a8f28815a8)
Chapter One (#u7368e0f7-68a5-553b-b7b8-c9ea03bb9716)
Chapter Two (#udaea0d11-16c8-5593-b315-77906336c5fb)
Chapter Three (#u07ca49e8-c8d1-53f7-b02b-c2e9a3dea9d3)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a)
A warm morning breeze blew a strand of Nina Johnson’s hair across her eyes. She pulled it away, her gaze riveted on the building in front of her. The two-story brick structure had an abundance of windows and a recessed entry that allowed for shade to cover the entrance. It looked fairly new. Had the cabdriver made a mistake and left her at the wrong place? She pulled her phone from her purse and brought up the address. It read 557 E. Warren Avenue. Her spirits sagged. She should never have agreed to come here. But then, where else would she have gone? Kathryn Harvey was her closest friend. She’d been there for her since college, through the marriage and the dark days afterward. When she’d asked her to come down to Hastings, Mississippi, and take over her psychology practice while she and her husband took advantage of a job in Spain for the next few months, she hadn’t been able to refuse. Her position as a corporate psychologist at Duncan and Stone had been eliminated. The call from her friend had been a blessing. Until now.
“Can I help you?”
Nina started at the sound of the deep voice close beside her. She stepped away, glancing at the man. Her gaze lifted until she found his startling green eyes lit with a smile. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You looked lost.”
The man was inquisitive for a stranger. She moved away a little more. “No, just surprised. The building is so small.” He frowned, and she realized she might have insulted him, so she hastened to explain. “My previous job was in a high-rise. Twentieth floor.”
“Ah. Not too many high-rises around here. But I assure you, this building is big enough to house seven thriving businesses. I should know. One of them is mine.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bret Sinclair.”
With her hands full of her purse, briefcase and a satchel filled with books she thought she might need, she could only stare back at him. She wasn’t used to strange men boldly introducing themselves—and shaking hands was even pushier. He didn’t seem to be the least bit put off by her nonresponse.
“Sorry. Let me help you.”
He took the briefcase from her grasp before she could react.
She had little choice but to introduce herself. “I’m Nina Johnson.” His large hand swallowed hers, wrapping around it with a solid strength that gave her an uneasy feeling, yet she was strangely reluctant to pull her hand away. The stress of the trip down here to Hastings must be getting to her.
A big smile spread across the man’s olive-toned skin, revealing a row of straight white teeth and an angled jawline that was very attractive.
“Kitty’s friend. She told us you’d be filling in for her. Nice to meet you. Let me show you to your office.”
She retrieved her briefcase from the man. “Kitty?”
“Yeah, we all call her that. Kathryn didn’t suit her personality.”
Nina mulled that over as she entered through the door the man held open. When had her friend taken the nickname? But then, she’d allowed their friendship to fade over the last few years, and she’d admittedly been surprised when Kathryn had asked her to take over her practice for a few months. Nina had closed her private practice years ago and gone into corporate psychology. She’d loved it. The job allowed her to help others, while not getting personally involved with patients or becoming emotionally attached. Things she’d vowed to avoid.
The man, Mr. Sinclair, walked briskly toward the end of the hall, and she had a hard time keeping up with him in her four-inch heels. The floor was slippery, too. He was chattering about something, but all she could think of was getting to Kathryn’s office and closing the door.
“Anita owns the Tranquility Spa. She does it all from hair and nails to facials and those crazy body wraps. You’ll have a full-service business when you want to get dolled up.”
Was he suggesting she needed a makeover? She gritted her teeth and tried to keep up. Was he deliberately trying to be offensive? She’d been to a spa once and found it anything but relaxing. She glanced at her host and found him still smiling. His unusual green eyes held a twinkle as he looked down at her. She averted her gaze. Something about the man made her uncomfortable. No doubt his overly solicitous attitude was the source. This Sinclair guy was far too friendly for her liking.
He pushed the button beside the elevator door and waited while she entered first.
“Your office is on the second floor.”
He continued his diatribe, throwing out names and businesses as if she were interested in the other occupants of the building. Stealing a glance at her host, she sorted through her people cubbies to find a good slot in which to file him away. On the surface, he seemed nice enough, but he was trying too hard to be helpful, and that usually meant he’d attempt to insert himself into her life. That was the last thing she wanted. When the elevator opened, she stepped out briskly, hoping he’d point out the right door and then go away.
“I’m right across the hall.”
Nina pulled her attention back to the man. “Excuse me?”
His grin deepened, exposing a dimple on the right side of his mouth that she’d failed to notice before. It was a nice dimple.
“At the moment, the only businesses on the second floor are yours, mine and David Ellis’s, the photographer. The last office is empty, and back there is the break room.” He pointed to the door to his right. “That’s my company. Phase II. We help veterans with training and job placement, and whatever else they might need when they’re ready to reenter the workforce.”
Nina’s heart lurched. “Soldiers?”
“As a matter of fact, we’re organizing our annual Military Appreciation Day event, and we’re always looking for volunteers. We’d welcome your help.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You have something against soldiers?”
He asked the question with a teasing tone in his voice. She cast a stern look in his direction. “Only when they fail to do their job and people die.” Clearly caught off guard, he frowned and rubbed his forehead. The smile left his face, calling attention to the sharp angle of his jaw and his high cheekbones. The clear green eyes had darkened to a dull forest color.
“Aren’t there dozens of organizations already helping veterans?”
“There are, but most of them are located two hours away, up in the state capital, and the waiting lists for those organizations are long. The vets need services here, where they live.”
His sincerity and passion caught her off guard, leaving her without a comeback. Thankfully she spotted the plaque on the wall beside the door on the left. Kathryn Harvey Psychologist. Nina fished out the key Kathryn had sent, but before she could use it, Bret opened the door and smiled down at her. “You have a key to this office?”
“To all of them. I own the building. Which makes me the landlord. But don’t worry. I don’t enter anyone’s business unless it’s an emergency.”
“Is that what this is?”
He chuckled as if she’d said something funny. The rich, throaty sound sent a quick ping along her nerves.
“No. I’m the welcome committee. I promised Kitty I’d help you settle in. When you get a free moment, I’ll introduce you to the others. We all try and look out for one another.”
Nina shrank in on herself. She needed to escape his overly helpful greeting right now. “That’s very kind, but I don’t need any help, and I doubt I’ll have much time for socializing.”
She squared her shoulders and marched into the small reception area, striving for an air of supreme confidence that would deter any further help. Instead she caught her heel in the overly plush carpet and tripped, quickly regaining her balance. Pulse racing, she placed her belongings on the desk and turned to face him. “Thank you for your help. I can take it from here.”
His hand was outstretched as if he’d intended to steady her, which he could easily have done, given his broad, well-developed shoulders and forearms. The black polo shirt with the Phase II logo on the breast pocket, and the faded jeans he wore, made it obvious that he enjoyed working out.
“Those shoes are dangerous. You could hurt yourself.”
Incredible. First a makeover, and now her shoes? Criticism was the last thing she needed at this moment. Her nerves were frayed. She attempted a firm expression. “Mr. Sinclair, I have a lot of studying to do before I see my first patient. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t have time to visit.”
He stared at her for a moment, his green eyes probing, making her regret her retort. She reminded herself she was here to fill in for Kathryn and reacquaint herself with working one-on-one with private patients. Not to get chummy with the natives.
“Okay then. If you need anything or have any questions, I’m right over there.” He gestured to the office across the hall.
She grasped the doorknob and met his gaze. The puzzlement in his eyes turned the green to a dull moss color. Very curious.
“Sure thing.” He started out the door, but stopped it from closing with his hand. She couldn’t help but notice it was a very attractive hand with long blunt fingers at the end of a muscled forearm. She pressed her lips together. She was more stressed than she thought. The man was smiling again.
“Dottie will be here shortly. She knows everything there is to know about Kitty’s patients. Except the private stuff, of course.”
Nina managed a stiff smile and pushed on the door again. Finally the man left, and she leaned against the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Silence. Alone. Now she could think and process.
As she turned around, she caught sight of him entering his office, and he lifted his hand in a wave. To her dismay, she could see a great deal of his offices through the row of glass windows. Great. The man was a serious threat to her powers of concentration. Reaching up, she closed the blinds, restoring her sense of security.
Her gaze took in the tastefully decorated area, which was furnished with a reception desk, a half dozen comfortable chairs and a coffee table piled with magazines. To the right of the desk was a door, which she guessed led to her friend’s office. Given Kathryn’s bubbly personality, she’d expected frilly, feminine decor, but the room had been decorated in calm and soothing tones of green and eggshell—perfect for helping patients relax.
An assortment of upholstered furniture in a muted fabric filled the space. Kathryn’s desk sat at one end of the room, in front of a wall of shelves holding countless books. A tall file cabinet stood nearby.
A quick check of the other doors revealed a small bathroom and a tiny lunch room. The arrangement suited her. She could come to work and never have to leave the office until the end of the day. Perfect.
A folder with her name on it rested in the middle of the desk. She sat down and opened the cover and read the letter inside. Kathryn started off by apologizing for not being there to help her get settled. The job overseas had opened up sooner than expected, and they’d had to leave. She explained that she had transferred the most critical patients to other qualified professionals. The rest, she had assured her, were mainly in need of weekly talk time and reassurance.
In addition, Kathryn had given her a schedule, a patient list and all the information she’d need to do her job. She’d also encouraged her to take on new patients if she wanted. But the last item on the list sent her heart into her throat. Once a week, she would be counseling a group of widows who were working through the changes in their lives as they started to move beyond the initial grieving period and transition into a normal life.
Nina touched her trembling fingertips to her lips. No. She couldn’t possibly counsel widows. She was a widow, and she’d avoided dealing with her loss for the last several years. It was why she’d closed her private practice and gone to work for Duncan. Her job consisted of interviewing potential employees and assigning them to the best positions. It was all superficial and didn’t require her to become emotionally involved.
But it was the P.S. at the end of Kitty’s letter that sent a cold rush along her veins. “I left my car parked behind the building, and the keys are in the drawer. I know you probably won’t use them, but just in case you do.” Nina’s throat closed up. Why would Kathryn think for one moment she would use those keys? The thought of getting behind the wheel of a car turned her blood to ice. At least, that was one area she didn’t have to worry about. But how was she going to deal with a group of widows needing guidance and direction when she had nothing whatsoever to offer them?
* * *
Bret retreated into his office, taking a seat in his worn leather chair and swinging it around to stare out the window. He could see the historic Saint John’s church steeple from here, and the sight normally grounded him. But at the moment, his mind was churning with confusion. Nina Johnson wasn’t what he’d expected. Kitty had described her friend as sweet and compassionate, a born nurturer with a heart for others. Kitty had mentioned that Nina had experienced great sadness in her life, but she hadn’t elaborated. Kitty would never reveal personal information about her patients or her friends.
But the woman in her office now was cool, distant and might as well have worn a sign warning everyone to stay away. Yet Bret had seen her true emotions reflected in her blue eyes. They’d been filled with anxiety as she’d stared at the building, but then she’d quickly masked that anxiety behind a cool demeanor. Later he’d seen regret and anger dart through her eyes when he’d explained about his company. Her comment about soldiers didn’t sit well.
Kitty’s depiction of Nina Johnson didn’t match the exterior of the woman either. Her five-foot-five frame was slender with rigid posture, and the gray suit and white blouse she wore did little to accentuate her bright blue eyes or her rich chestnut hair, which she wore clipped back behind her ears.
He suspected her prim image was a shield for her deep vulnerability. He’d seen similar behavior in the veterans he worked with. Many of them chose to hide their feelings and fears instead of dealing with them. He and Kitty used to tease each other that he provided the external tools with his job placement and training programs, and she provided the internal tools by showing soldiers how to confront their fears and overcome them. She was also a strong supporter of his goal to provide help and assistance for the soldiers.
He spun in his chair and opened his computer. Nina’s comment about soldiers left him uneasy. If Nina had issues with veterans, she might have a hard time fitting in with the others. Everyone in the building helped with the Military Appreciation Day event, and many of Kitty’s patients were veterans. Would Kitty’s replacement be able to connect with them in the same way Kitty had? He hoped so. He knew how hard Kitty worked to help those in her care. He hoped Nina wouldn’t inadvertently set them back.
Rapid tapping on his door broke into his thoughts. His friend and business partner, Alan McKay, strolled in and perched himself on the edge of the desk.
“So, I hear the new lady is here. Is she pretty? Single? Looking for a handsome guy to show her around?”
If Alan was half as attractive as he thought he was, he’d be dangerous. “She’s attractive in a business kind of way.” He wasn’t about to give his friend any ammunition by telling him about the odd attraction he’d felt when he saw her standing in front of the building. She’d looked like a little girl who’d lost her way. When he’d looked into her eyes, he’d realized she was a woman fighting to get through the next moment without losing it. The same way he was. The realization rocked him. Was that how people saw him, keeping a tight rein on his emotions, afraid to set his heart free? He put on a good show. He was friendly and jovial, but inside, he was battling to hold it together. So what was Nina Johnson’s story?
“Meaning what?”
“She’s reserved and a bit closed off.” He rested his arms on the desk. “She reminds me of Olivia.”
“Your eight-year-old? How so?”
“She’s smart and funny most of the time, but away from the family, she is painfully shy. It takes time for her to assess the situation before she’ll step into the action. Maybe all Miss Nina needs is a little time to adjust to her environment.”
Alan crossed his arm over his chest. “Or maybe she’s like your five-year-old. Outgoing and ready for fun, but she just didn’t warm to you.” He stood. “I’m going to go over there and say welcome.”
Bret’s protective instincts kicked in. “Alan, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. It’s her first day, and she seemed really nervous. Give her some time to settle in before you go throwing your charm around.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But be sure and invite her to the monthly birthday party tomorrow. Then we can all meet her and welcome her into the family.”
“I will, but I don’t think she’s the sociable type. She might not want to be buddies with the other business owners.” The idea saddened him. Kitty had spent much of her free time visiting the other tenants. He had a feeling Nina was more comfortable by herself. Getting her to join the fun would be a tough job. A surge of determination grew in his mind. He wanted her to be part of the group, and he wouldn’t stop until he knew her story and had her firmly integrated into their family. He’d been the outsider once, and the people here had given him back the sense of belonging he’d lost when his wife walked out.
Alan leaned forward with a grin. “So, do I detect some interest on your part? Did the lady capture your attention?”
Bret shook his head and turned his focus to the computer screen. “I have no desire to get involved with anyone.” But he couldn’t deny that something about the new therapist intrigued him. Those big blue eyes in the pretty oval face had lodged in his mind, and the sweet, flowery scent she wore still lingered in his nostrils, though it was at odds with her closed-off attitude.
“I promised Kitty I’d look after her and help her get adjusted. That’s all.” Strictly for the sake of her patients, of course, and Kitty’s reputation. He had a sudden desire to see the lady with her hair down. Literally and figuratively.
“Dude, you need to get your nose out of this job and start noticing women again.”
“You’re the ladies’ man around here. Not me. My two little girls are the only women I need in my life.”
“Bret, old buddy, I’ve known you since we were on the football team in high school, and I know you’re a family man to the core. You don’t do well single. You’re happiest when you’re part of a couple. Married.”
Bret punched the enter key on his laptop with more force than necessary. His friend was right, but he wasn’t going to risk his heart again, or those of his little girls. “I tried that, remember? I failed miserably. Dad and I are doing okay raising the girls.”
Alan exhaled an exasperated breath. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.
“Don’t you think you deserve another chance? Maybe, with the right woman, things would be different.”
“And maybe they wouldn’t. It wasn’t the woman. It was me.”
“Not true. One of these days, you’re going to have to let go of those black bags of guilt you’re still carrying around over that thing in Afghanistan and your wife and allow yourself to be happy again. Lay it at the cross, man. Lay it at the cross. I gotta go. I got to see a man about a donation.”
Alan’s uninhibited personality was a huge asset to Phase II. He had a way of loosening purse strings and opening wallets and getting donations that kept the business afloat. “Hope it’s a big one.” While they charged for many of their services, the donations allowed them to keep the cost of classes and training manageable for the veterans who were on tight budgets. Their main goal was to acquire a government contract that would cover expenses on a permanent basis. So far, no luck in that department, but he felt sure Alan’s bulldog determination and his attention to detail would get them a contract this time around. “How’s it going on that contract application?”
“Good, but I want to make sure I cross every T and dot every I before I submit it. How about you? How’s the Military Appreciation Day event coming along?”
“I have a chamber-of-commerce meeting tomorrow. I’m not hopeful of them planning anything different this year.”
“You mean, other than throwing up a few tents and handing out flyers? That didn’t generate much interest last year. We need publicity. Radio, TV, word of mouth. And we need to make it a fun family day.”
“I agree. Now we just need to convince the members to let go of some money to make it happen.”
Bret was relieved when Alan left the office. His friend meant well, but he didn’t fully understand the heavy burden he carried deep inside. He’d tried to reconcile his failures in his mission and his marriage, but nothing had eased his guilt in the last three years, and he doubted anything ever would. All he could do was try to make up for it with his company, help as many veterans as possible and take care of his girls.
No time to think of that now. He had a class to prepare for. Six vets had signed up for computer classes this afternoon, and he hadn’t even prepared the classroom.
He stood up and walked through the office, his gaze darting to the front door and the office across the hall. How was Nina getting along? Hopefully her secretary, Dottie, would ease her transition. Something told him that Nina had more than just nerves over a new position to contend with. He had a gut feeling that her issues ran as deep as his.
* * *
Nina leaned back in her chair—Kathryn’s chair—and closed her eyes. Most of her earlier anxiety had faded in the soothing privacy of the office. She discovered a pod coffee maker and made herself a cup. The flavored brew settled her nerves. All she needed now was a cup of confidence to go along with it. Her landlord had more than his share of confidence. Normally, that would be an indication that a person was well-adjusted, but he’d overdone the welcome, as far as she was concerned. It probably had something to do with his good looks. He knew he was handsome and behaved accordingly.
She had to admit he had a nice smile and warm, friendly eyes. His close-cropped dark brown hair was long enough to hint at a tendency to wave and gave him a boyish quality.
What was she doing? She set her cup down and shoved her thoughts of Bret Sinclair aside. She had no time to think about anything but her reason for being here. Her goal was to come to the office, meet with her patients, help them in any way she could and keep them on track until Kathryn and her family returned home. When she wasn’t at the office, she would keep to herself. Alone. Quiet. Avoiding the past.
Carrying her cup out to the reception area, she peeked out into the corridor separating the various offices. Sinclair had said there were seven businesses in the building, and he’d seemed eager to introduce her to the owners. She’d have to make sure she was too busy to get involved.
Movement across the hall caught her attention. The offices of Phase II took up the whole west side of the second level. Wide windows on either side of the main entry afforded a clear view of the reception area. A young woman sat at the desk, while people moved back and forth, some in military uniforms. Would they be coming and going all day? The thought twisted a small spot under her breastbone. She wouldn’t think about that.
Bret suddenly came into sight and spoke with the woman at the desk. Nina froze. Then, as if sensing her staring, he rotated and looked directly at her. He smiled, sending a slow, warm wave of awareness through her body. She told herself it was embarrassment at being caught snooping, but she knew it was more than that. The warmth in his green eyes could be felt through the glass. She gave a slight nod and hurriedly turned away.
She didn’t want to give the man any ideas. As she started back to her desk, she heard the office door swish open. Was he coming to talk to her again? Quickly, she formed a plausible excuse to turn him away, but when she looked over her shoulder, it wasn’t Bret, but a middle-aged woman with a bright smile, perfectly coiffed light brown hair and glasses on a chain hanging around her neck.
“Hello, there. I’m Dottie Patterson. Welcome to Hastings. I’m so excited to have you here. Kitty thinks the world of you.”
The woman’s sincere greeting and easy manner instantly calmed Nina’s nerves. “Glad to meet you, Dottie. Kathryn told me you had the answers for all my questions.”
“Ha. Sounds like her.” Dottie piled her purse and several bags onto the desktop. “No. I only have a few answers, but I do know where all the bodies are buried.” She waved her hand. “Just joking. I will help you with everything I can. I’m familiar with her schedule and most of her patients, though of course, not their issues. But I know enough to detect when they really need to see her, or when they just need a kind word.”
The idea of having a filter between herself and her patients was reassuring. “You must have worked for her a long time?”
“Since her boys were babies. Course, I only work three days a week now. Monday through Wednesdays, till noon. Hubby is retired, and I want to spend as much time together as we can.”
“Kathryn doesn’t have a full load of patients?”
“She used to, but a year ago, she decided she needed to spend more time with her family, so she started pulling back. Now she sees patients early in the week. Thursday is for emergencies or new patients, and Friday, she plays hooky.”
“Sounds like a nice job, but I prefer to be busy. I don’t do well with time on my hands.”
“I hope you don’t go stir crazy here, then. We aren’t very busy. Kitty has transferred her most serious patients to other qualified doctors. You’ll be working mainly with the run-of-the-mill neurosis and phobias.”
“I wasn’t aware there were any of those.”
Dottie chuckled. “Sorry. You know what I mean. At any rate, I’ll help you all I can, and of course, you’re welcome to take on any new patients if you like. In your spare time, you can discover Hastings. It’s a very historic town. We have dozens of antebellum homes, a cemetery dating back to the settling of the area and several notable museums.”
Dottie turned on the computer, and then she planted her hands on her hips. “Did you read the letter Kitty left?”
“Yes. It all seemed pretty simple.”
“Good. The only really important item is the Widow’s Walk Club. That’s every Tuesday night at 6:30.”
Nina’s palms began to sweat at the thought of the one thing she wished she could avoid. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much experience in group therapy. I’m more comfortable with one-on-one sessions.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. These ladies have been in the group for years now. They’ve been through it all together. All you have to do is listen and make sure they’re being honest with themselves.”
“Any chance we could suspend the group until Kathryn returns?”
Dottie raised her head and frowned. “Goodness, no. Those women depend on that weekly meeting. For a couple of them, it’s all that’s keeping them grounded.”
Dottie must have seen her alarm. She came and gave her shoulders a warm squeeze. “Don’t worry. The women are all sweet as pie, and they’ll bring you up to speed. They are looking forward to meeting you. Now, let’s get you settled in.”
The next few hours were spent going over everything with Dottie. They sorted the patient files to coordinate with each appointment so Nina could read them before they met. The only bump in the road was the patient scheduled for this afternoon. Dottie had tried to reschedule but was unable. Nina wasn’t prepared to counsel someone this soon, but she had no choice. She’d come here to shake herself out of her apathetic state, so jumping in with both feet might be a good thing.
Thankfully the patient called and canceled at the last minute. All she wanted to do now was get to her hotel, take a long bath and study the files for tomorrow. She had five appointments during the day, and the Widow’s Walk group in the evening. It was going to be a long day.
After placing a call for a cab, Nina gathered her belongings and headed downstairs. She stepped out the front door of the building and into the heat. It must be eighty-five degrees, much too hot for a wool suit. Maybe she’d shed the jacket tomorrow. Mid-April in Chicago was still cold, damp and sometimes snowy. Here in Southern Mississippi, the sun shone, and the flowers were blooming. It was a nice surprise, but she prayed there wouldn’t be too many more. She liked things predictable, controlled. Her first day had been anything but.
Glancing at her watch, and then up the street, she willed the cab to arrive. She was tired, cranky and hot, and all she wanted to do was get to her hotel room and shut out the world and everyone in it.
Bret Sinclair’s grin flashed through her mind. He was someone she definitely wanted to block out.
The only way she could survive these next few months was to keep to herself. She couldn’t risk getting emotionally involved again, because risking another loss of someone she loved would kill her.
It almost had the first time.
Chapter Two (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a)
Bret finished straightening his desk, closed his laptop and prepared to leave for the day. As he pushed his chair under his desk, he glanced out the window and caught sight of someone below standing on the front sidewalk. Nina. He peered closer. She had her hands full of her briefcase and satchel again, and that monster purse she carried. What was she doing standing in the hot sun?
She was still there when he exited the front door. He glanced around but didn’t see a car or taxi anywhere.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
She jerked and emitted a soft gasp. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“Didn’t mean to. So, how did the first day go?”
“Fine, but I’ve got a lot of homework to do before I see my first patient tomorrow.” Nina checked her watch again.
“I noticed you’d been standing here awhile. I got concerned. What are you doing?”
“Waiting for my cab.”
Bret tugged on his earlobe. “Then you may have a long wait. Taxis here are not very reliable.”
“The dispatcher said the cab would be here in five minutes.”
“And how long ago was that?”
Nina hesitated a moment before responding. “Twenty minutes.”
“No surprise there. You’ll probably have to rent a car if you want to get around.”
“That’s not an option. I don’t drive.”
“At all?” His eyes widened, and a frown creased his forehead.
“No.”
“Well, how did you manage to get around in Chicago?”
“Public transportation, cabs, the EL.” She looked up and down the street. “I assumed I could hire a cab here. I didn’t have any trouble this morning.”
“You were fortunate. Don’t expect that kind of service every time you call them. They’re okay if you don’t have to be someplace on time. There’s only one taxi company in Hastings, and they’re spread pretty thin. They do the best they can.”
She shifted her case from one hand to the other. He could clearly see the fatigue etched in the pinched corners of her mouth and furrowed brow. In the heavy suit and jacket, she had to be melting in the heat.
“You can’t stand out here forever. Why don’t I drop you off. Where are you staying?”
She hesitated, glancing once more at her watch, clearly reluctant to accept his offer. The heat must have forced her to decide. “The Emerald Hotel, downtown Hastings.”
It was the most expensive hotel in the city. Didn’t she realize there were several other more reasonably priced places across town? He reached out and took the briefcase from her hand. “That’s on my way home. My car’s out back.” He gestured toward the walk along the side of the building.
“All right. Thank you.”
He opened the door of his dark SUV and tossed a pink jacket into the back seat so she could sit down in the front. Safely buckled in, he started the engine and upped the fan speed on the AC. He stifled a grin when she sighed and unbuttoned her jacket to allow the cool air to wash over her. Adjusting to the heat in the Deep South took a lot of folks by surprise. He drove in silence along the Campbell highway, getting caught by every traffic light. When he turned off onto Franklin Street, he couldn’t stand the quiet ant longer. “Kitty said you’ll be here for three months, while they’re overseas.”
“Yes.”
“I guess moving to Mississippi from the Windy City is a bit of a culture shock.”
“I have to admit, I wasn’t prepared. Kathryn said this was a thriving city. I’d expected it to be much bigger.”
“It’s actually not that small. We have a university, a new mall, and several national companies have made Hastings their home base. But no, we can’t compete with Chicago in size, but we’re growing.”
“I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I’m just tired.”
“I understand. Mississippi gets a bad rap most of the time. Give us a chance.”
He pulled up at the curb in front of the hotel, and she opened the door the moment he came to a stop. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or take her at her word that she was tired and eager to relax.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. What time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?”
Her blue eyes widened. “Oh, I couldn’t impose. I’ll call the cab company sooner.”
“You might still be late to work. Easier if I come and get you. What time do you usually start your day?”
“Eight thirty.”
“Perfect. I usually arrive then, too. See you tomorrow. About eight fifteen.”
Bret watched Nina until she disappeared through the elegant front door of the old hotel. She really didn’t like taking help from him, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Some of her aloof attitude might be explained by being a Yankee. But he had a feeling there was more behind her standoffish personality. Something more serious than a change in regions.
If she allowed him to be her chauffeur, he might be able to figure her out and help her adjust. He also had a feeling she needed a friend.
As he entered his 1940s-Craftsman house, a short while later, he inhaled the aroma of something delicious that made his stomach growl. He found his dad standing at the stove.
His father glanced over his shoulder and scowled.
“You’re late.”
Bret was in no mood to do battle with his dad tonight. “A friend needed a ride home from work. It was on the way, so...”
“Where to? Timbuktu?”
“The Emerald, downtown.”
His dad scowled deeper. “That’s not on your way home.”
“It was today. What’s for supper?”
“Roast beef and noodles, and you almost missed it.”
“Where are my girls?”
“In the playhouse. Call them in. It’s time to eat.”
Bret headed toward the back door. He was thankful every day that his father was helping him raise his little girls, but there were things he and his dad didn’t see eye to eye on. Bret walked to the edge of the deck and stood straight as an arrow. “Hear ye. Hear ye. Are there any princesses on the premises?”
Squeals and giggles greeted him as two little brown-haired girls dashed from the pink-and-white playhouse toward him. At five and eight years old, they were growing up too fast for his liking. He knelt down just in time to grab them both in a big bear hug.
“We’re so glad you’re home.” Olivia smiled and patted his shoulder.
“I love it when you come home, Daddy.” Five-year-old Georgiana buried her head in the crook of his neck.
“I love coming home to my girls. Gramps has supper ready. Go get cleaned up so we can eat. And use soap.”
Bret’s eyes grew moist as he watched his daughters go inside. He loved them more than he could bear, and he wanted so much for both of them. He would do anything for them. But his failure as a husband had caused Sylvia to walk out on the three of them, leaving his children without a mother to love and nurture them as they grew. He’d tried his best to make up for the vacancy in the girls’ lives, but there was only so much a father could do.
He shook off the gloomy thoughts. He’d learned it didn’t do any good and only made him feel worse. Instead, he focused on the girls’ sweet faces and their happy smiles. It always lifted his spirits. After all, Livvy and Georgie were all that mattered to him.
The evening meal passed with the usual chatter from the girls, a spilled glass of milk and a round of the old “she started it, no she did” game.
Bret stacked the dishes beside the sink, as his father scraped them off and loaded them into the dishwasher.
“So, who was this friend you took home?”
“She’s the therapist filling in for Kitty.”
“Single?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, find out. Is she old, young, homely, what?”
Bret fought to curb his irritation. His dad was convinced that, if his son would just try marriage again, it would all work out. He’d never liked Sylvia. Always claimed she wasn’t honest, and wasn’t as committed to the marriage as he was. Bret spent a lot of his marriage overseas, serving in the army, and he always thought his dad was being his usual critical self. When he came home, things seemed fine to him. Until his last tour of duty.
He’d royally screwed up his mission assignment. He’d allowed the soldier he was sworn to protect with his life die. He’d barely had time to adjust to that debacle, when Sylvia had walked out, leaving the girls with his dad.
With his enlistment almost up, he’d taken an early discharge and gone home. But it was too late to save his marriage. He’d sold his house, moved in with his dad and put all his assets into purchasing the building and starting Phase II. He devoted his life now to helping veterans and being the best dad possible for his girls.
“Dad, I’m not looking for any relationship. When would I have the time?” With two massive failures in responsibility, he wasn’t looking for a chance to mess up again.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“You do enough as it is.”
“I’d do more if it meant you were happy and settled again. With the right woman this time.”
“There’s no way to know if she’s right or not.” He’d loved Sylvia. He’d believed their marriage was good.
“I’ll know. I picked your mother, didn’t I? I’d find a good woman for you, too, if you’d cooperate.”
His dad meant well, but he didn’t understand the thin veneer of emotional scar tissue that could be easily opened, allowing the old pain and guilt to seep through his whole being. “Right now I need to get two little girls to cooperate and get to bed.”
Bedtime was always hectic, but he wouldn’t trade it for peace and quiet. The little smiles, the hugs, the giggles, even the arguments, made him feel alive and filled him with hope. He prayed every day that the Lord would take up any slack left by his ineptitude. He was trusting the Almighty completely.
Bret closed the door to the girls’ room, pausing a moment to snag one last glance at the precious, beautiful treasures. Oh, how he longed to protect them from the bumps and bruises of life. He’d had a similar feeling when he’d first met Nina. He had the overpowering sense that she needed protecting, despite her independent facade.
She was a puzzle, and he wanted to put all her pieces together to find out who she really was. This was the first time in years that he’d been drawn to a woman. Better not let his dad know he was interested. Besides, Bret knew he’d picked poorly the first time, and he’d likely repeat that mistake. In fact, he was. The first woman he’d noticed in years and she wasn’t the warm and motherly type, but cool, distant and aloof. He really knew how to pick them.
No. He’d keep his interest in Nina as simply that. Interest. Thankfully, she was only going to be here a short while, and then she’d return to Yankee Land and all would be well. So why was he looking forward to seeing her again in the morning?
He was an idiot.
* * *
Safe in her hotel room, Nina soaked in a hot tub until the water cooled. Then she slipped into lounge pants and an oversize shirt, before ordering room service. She settled down with the files she’d brought home, but concentrating was difficult. Coming here was the biggest mistake of her life. Today had made that perfectly clear. She didn’t belong here. She’d had visions of slipping quietly into Kathryn’s job, reacquainting herself with counseling private patients and passing the days until her friend returned.
She hadn’t counted on a man who had made it his job to look after her, or a secretary who was cheerier than a songbird at first light. Neither was she prepared for the warm weather and the lack of transportation. She should have done her research and been more proactive before accepting Kathryn’s offer.
Nina rested her head on the small sofa in her room, digging her fingertips into the hair at her temples. No. She had to stop being a hermit, hiding away from life. That was why she’d come here—to shake herself out of the dull, unfeeling life she’d had before. Losing her job had forced her to see what she’d become. A sad, lonely, closed-off human being. She didn’t like that person, but she’d lived this way so long, she didn’t know how else to be. The offer from Kathryn was the answer to her prayers.
Her gaze landed on the stack of files she’d brought home. She had people depending on her. Patients who needed her. There wasn’t time to feel sorry for herself. She picked up the folder, opened it and got to work.
Nina awoke the next morning with a nervous jitter dancing in her stomach. She would see her first patients today. She’d read their files, understood their issues, but it had been a long time since she’d counseled a patient privately. She decided to take it slowly today and allow herself to get a feel for each person who came into her office.
She dressed quickly and gathered her belongings, wanting to be downstairs, in front of the hotel, when Bret arrived. She’d have to find another way to and from work soon. She couldn’t ride back and forth with her landlord every day. Heat enveloped her from the moment she stepped outside. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Her silk blouse clung to her skin, and the thick wool jacket became itchy and uncomfortable. She hoped Bret was on time, or else she’d be a wilted mess by the time she got to the office.
The big black SUV appeared around the corner, and she quickly climbed inside, relieved to feel the cool interior chasing away the heat.
“Good morning. Did you have a good night?”
“Yes. I did.”
Bret scanned her outfit with a puzzled frown. “Aren’t you hot?”
She tugged at her jacket, aware of the blouse still plastered to her skin. Still, she wasn’t about to admit that. “No. It’s my first day seeing patients. I need to look professional.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
Prickles of irritation formed. Why did he feel he had the right to criticize her attire? “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing, if it was winter, but it’s late spring. That fabric is too heavy for this heat. I’m sure it was appropriate for corporate Chicago, but Hastings is more laid-back. Only attorneys wear suits here, and most of them don’t wear ties.”
Nina clenched her teeth to stop the snippy comment on the tip of her tongue. “Do you usually tell newcomers how to dress when they arrive in town, or is it just me that you’re finding fault with? First you hint that I might like to take advantage of the Tranquility Spa, and then decided my shoes were dangerous. Now you’re telling me my wardrobe is all wrong. Your hospitality needs some work.”
Bret gripped the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or suggest that you needed some kind of makeover. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I just meant you’d be more comfortable if you dressed differently. Less fussy and more relaxed.” He sighed. “I’m going to shut up now. I’m only making things worse.”
“Yes, you are.” She regretted snapping at him. After all, he had no idea what she was facing today.
“This is me trying to be helpful. I promised Kitty I’d look out for you, get you settled and make sure you were comfortable. I guess I’m not real sure how to do that.”
“Stop trying. I’m fine. Really. I don’t need any help.”
“Right. Except to get back and forth to work.”
She shot him a glance, but when she looked at him, she saw the sly smile and the twinkle in his green eyes, and her irritation vanished. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so sensitive. I’m nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen patients.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”
“I hope so. I don’t want to let Kathryn down. She’s done me a great favor in letting me fill in for her.”
“How so?”
She took a moment to gauge how much to reveal. “My job was eliminated. Her offer was a blessing. I jumped at the chance.” Maybe she’d jumped too quickly. “I hadn’t expected things to be so different down here.”
Hastings wasn’t Chicago. There, she’d been able to blend into the crowd and live an invisible existence. Here, her clothes, her hair and her manner made her stick out like a sore thumb. She was used to being a controlled professional, never letting her emotions show, nor allowing herself to feel them. Over the last year, those emotions had started to build up, threatening to rise to the surface, and she feared that when they grew strong enough, they’d explode and consume her. She knew expressing emotions, dealing with grief and loss, was the only healthy way to get through a traumatic experience. Somewhere along the way, she’d become stuck. She couldn’t go back, and she was too afraid to move forward.
“And I’m not making things any easier. I promise, I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”
He really was a nice man. “And I promise, if I have questions, I’ll come to you for help.”
“Sounds like a good compromise.”
In her office, she settled in behind her desk, making sure her patient notes were ready. Dottie reassured her that Mrs. Alexander was a nice lady, who mainly needed someone to listen to and reassure her that she wasn’t crazy. Dottie felt sure after Nina saw the first patient, she’d regain her confidence.
Thankfully, Dottie’s prediction proved correct. Nina’s self-confidence grew after seeing her first patient. However, the second appointment that morning didn’t go as well. The patient was unhappy that Kathryn wasn’t there. She tried to reassure the gentleman, but he left with obvious doubts about her ability to help, which only added to her anxiety about the Widow’s Walk Club that night. If only she could see the women individually, instead of in a group.
After eating a quick lunch she’d had prepared by her hotel’s room service to bring with her to work, she was ready to tackle the afternoon. She’d have to find restaurants nearby, because the cost of having a lunch prepared by room service every day was too expensive.
Picking up the mail Dottie had placed on her desk, she scanned the flyer printed on light blue paper. Hastings Military Appreciation Day. The event Bret had mentioned. The flyer urged the tenants in the building to get involved and volunteer. Nina’s conscience sparked. Despite her experience with the service, she held great respect for the military. Maybe there was something she could do to help. Something small that would be helpful but wouldn’t get her too deeply involved. Shoving the flyer into her desk drawer, she set the idea aside for her to consider later.
Her next three sessions were uneventful. She doubted she’d done more than hold their place for the time being, but at least she hadn’t upset anyone. Nina opened the large file on the widows’ therapy group, hoping that reading through it one more time would boost her confidence and give her an idea of what to expect.
Bret appeared in her doorway. “I’ve come to take you to a party.”
The last thing she wanted to do now. The mere thought of meeting a bunch of strangers set her nerves on edge. She shook her head. “I’m not much for parties.”
He smiled and came toward her, reaching for her hand. “You can’t say no. This is mandatory.”
Sweat broke out on her palms. “No. Really, I don’t have time.”
“But everyone is looking forward to meeting you.” He tugged her to her feet.
Reluctantly, she stood and took a step, but the carpet once again snagged her stiletto heel, and she pitched forward. Bret’s arms wrapped around her rib cage, but her forward momentum twisted her ankle, leaving her right shoe stuck in the carpet.
A sharp pain lanced up her calf and she cried out.
In one smooth motion, Bret picked her up and carried her to the sofa, and then he knelt down and took her ankle in his hands, gently touching, twisting and probing, examining for any serious damage.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Nowhere now. I think it’s all right.” She started to tug her foot from his grasp. His touch was doing strange things to her system. His gentleness and concern warmed her heart, but she didn’t need the tingles that were shooting up her leg. His head was bowed over her ankle as he checked for injury, and she wondered if his dark brown hair was as soft as it looked. Her cheeks flamed. What had gotten into her?
Bret looked up and smiled. “Looks like no harm was done. See how it does when you stand on it.”
He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into it, acutely aware of the warm strength in his touch. Gingerly, she tested her foot. No pain. She grinned. Crisis avoided.
“Good.” He retrieved her shoe from the carpet snag and handed it to her. “I still think these shoes are dangerous.”
“You may be right.”
“So, are you ready for the party?”
Her good mood died. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? His gallant rescue didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to mingle with a bunch of strangers.
“No. I’m sorry, but I really don’t have the time.” She turned her back, hunching her shoulders. He’d probably be angry with her.
Bret exhaled a heavy sigh and touched her shoulder lightly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I wanted everyone to meet you.”
Nina’s irritation waned at the sincerity in his deep voice. He meant well, and he did have a way of making her feel better, but he had no idea what she was facing. “No. It’s not your fault. I need time to adjust. Everything here is so different.”
“I suppose we do take a little getting used to.”
“Maybe next time.” How could she explain that this was a difficult time of year for her, which only added to her stress. She’d hoped the move here would keep her too busy to dwell on the anniversary, but it wasn’t. She glanced at her phone. “I have a patient due in a few minutes, so if you’ll excuse me...”
He held her gaze a moment, his green eyes probing and filled with compassion. “Sure thing.”
She pulled her gaze from his.
He started out of the room. “If you need anything, just ask.”
“I will.”
Alone, in the quiet of her office, she poured a drink from the watercooler and let the chilled water dampen the heat in her throat. She should never have come to Hastings. Never agreed to fill in for Kathryn. It was much harder than she’d ever expected.
She sank into her desk chair, her gaze landing on the calendar displayed on the corner. Her nerves screamed at the upcoming date. How was she going to get through Friday in her present state? Reaching out, she grabbed the calendar and shoved it deep into the bottom drawer before picking up the next patient file and losing herself in the contents.
* * *
Bret marched into his office and closed the door, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d messed up again. He’d convinced himself that the shy Nina simply needed a little push to get her out of her shell. It always worked with his daughter Livvy. A little urging and she could move past her reluctance.
Unfortunately, Nina wasn’t an eight-year-old child. Pushing her had only upset her and shoved her deeper into her hole. He’d have to find a different approach. He knew behind that rigid exterior was a sweet, vibrant woman longing to get out. Maybe he could get a better read after they rode back and forth to work a few times. People often opened up while driving. He thought about calling Kitty, but his concerns would only make her worry about her friend, and she didn’t need that right now.
The bell tone on his cell chimed, and he smiled. His girls were calling. School was out, and they always checked in. He tapped the speaker button. “Hello, princesses. How was school today?”
Livvy spoke first. “Georgie got in trouble.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did too. She had to stay in at recess. She pushed Justin Collins down.”
“Livvy, it’s not nice to tattle on your sister. Georgie, we’ll talk about this later.”
“Okay. Grandpa is taking us to get art supplies. I have to make a poster.”
“Can I make a poster, too?”
“We’ll see. You behave for your grandpa until I get home.”
“Did you have a nice day, Daddy?”
Bret’s heart warmed. His oldest girl was the nurturer in the family. Always thinking of others. “I did.” A memory of holding Nina in his arms flashed into his mind, making him smile. That had been a very nice part of his day. She’d felt so soft and warm in his arms. He shoved the notion aside.
“Will you be home soon, Daddy?”
“No, Georgie, I have to work tonight, but we’ll talk when I get home, okay?”
After a few phone kisses and a couple of love yous, Bret ended the call and closed his eyes, rubbing them to ease the tiredness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get the hang of working and being a single dad. If it wasn’t for Alan, he’d be at the office every night. If the company would turn a profit, he might be able to take on more help, but right now, that was out of the question. They were barely staying afloat.
It was nearly five o’clock when Bret finished preparing for the computer class he would be conducting this evening. He needed to check with Nina about tonight. The widows’ group met this evening, and he suspected she planned on taking a cab back to the hotel. Not a good idea.
The door to her office was open when he entered the reception area, which meant she didn’t have a patient. He stopped at the doorway of her office. She was deep in concentration, no doubt preparing for her first group therapy session with the widows. He had to admire her diligence.
He tapped on the door frame. She looked up and smiled, causing an unexpected catch in his pulse. She had a beautiful smile. She needed to display it more often. “I just wanted you to know that I have a class tonight, so I can still take you home when you’re done.”
“Are you sure I won’t be putting you out?”
“Not in the least. Knock on my door when you’re ready to leave.” She nodded, and he tore his gaze from her pretty blue eyes, reminding himself that he had a lousy track record with women. He scolded himself mentally and turned away, making a beeline for his office.
He had to watch himself where his new tenant was concerned. She obviously had issues, and she wasn’t like one of his vets, whom he could easily connect with. They had shared experiences. He had no idea what Nina had been through. But something about the woman had latched on to him and he couldn’t ignore her.
Chapter Three (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a)
Nina glanced at the clock in her office Tuesday evening, tapping her fingernails on the desktop. The ladies would be here in fifteen minutes, and she was having a full-blown anxiety attack. She’d tried a few deep breathing exercises, several stress-relieving stretches and even resorted to a brief prayer, but nothing helped.
Intellectually, she knew she was prepared for this group therapy session. She’d read the files and all of Kathryn’s notes, and she had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Still, the thought of trying to guide a group of widows triggered all her insecurities. No. Her fears. These women could shatter all the windows in her shrine of grief.
The door swooshed open, and a tall blonde woman entered carrying a large purse over her shoulder. She was dressed in skinny jeans that fit the way they’d been intended, and a soft green flowing top. With her long hair and bright green eyes, she looked like she’d stepped off the pages of Vogue. She saw Nina and a huge smile brightened her face.
“You must be Nina. Ooh, I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Evelyn Clark.” She spread her arms and hurried forward, wrapping Nina in a huge, perfume-laced hug. Thankfully, the awkward moment ended quickly, and she was able to hide her discomfort.
The door opened again, and two more ladies entered. One was a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a simple pair of jeans, plain knit top and tennis shoes. The other woman was close to Nina’s age and wore leggings under a long tunic, and large gold earrings that accented her dark curly hair. They introduced themselves as Paula Ingram and Charlotte Kirby. Nina knew the names from her files. Evelyn had lost her hubby to cancer many years ago. Paula’s husband had been killed in an oil rig accident in the Gulf. Charlotte was a military wife who lost her husband in the line of duty.
The ladies made their way into her office and got comfortable. Nina took a seat and glanced at the door. Officially, there were eight women in the group, but according to Kathryn’s notes, not all of them attended regularly. “How many more are you expecting?”
Evelyn placed her purse on the floor beside her chair. “Jen and Trudy are coming, but Rona has a school thing, and Elise has a migraine.”
Nina checked her file. “And what about Yvonne Monroe?”
The women all wore silly smiles. “I don’t think she’ll be back. She’s met someone and it’s getting serious. I think we’ll hear wedding bells soon.”
Nina remembered several notes in Yvonne’s file. Her husband had been murdered. Her file was the thickest. She had a long, hard climb back to mental health. It was good she was transitioning forward into a new life, but the thought of doing the same for herself knotted Nina’s stomach.
The door opened once more, and two women hurried in. The first was a small woman wearing a simple skirt and blouse and dark-rimmed glasses. The other was plump with graying hair and a cheery smile. Her perfectly tailored linen outfit suggested she was well-off.
“Sorry we’re late.” The older woman grinned and hurriedly took a seat. “I’m Jen. And she’s Trudy.”
Trudy took a seat in one of the side chairs slightly apart from the others, who had gathered on the sofa. Nina made a mental note of this, and then settled in, being sure to make eye contact with each woman and ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “I’m glad to meet you. Kathryn tells me you’ve been a group for a number of years.”
Jen nodded. “We’ve had some come and go. Several have remarried and are living happily-ever-after.”
“Since I’m the new one here, why don’t we start by telling me what you usually talk about.”
The women shared glances and knowing smiles.
Evelyn spoke first. “Well, actually, we want to get to know you.”
Paula leaned forward. “Before we spill our guts, so to speak.”
“Don’t listen to them.” Jen held up a hand. “They’re just nosy. Don’t tell them a thing.”
Nina stifled a smile. She’d been worried, but they all seemed relaxed and made her feel at ease. Even comfortable.
“So, tell us about you.” Evelyn clasped her hands together and smiled. “All we know is that you’re a widow like us. Kitty wouldn’t tell us any more than that.”
The warmth faded and turned to icy alarm. They knew. She hadn’t planned on sharing that information so soon. Not until she’d grown more comfortable with the women.
Trudy nodded. “We were glad to hear that. You’ll be able to share things we haven’t experienced yet.”
No, she couldn’t. How could she when she’d never gone down that road? She didn’t understand anything about being a widow. She’d spent the last three years deliberately not understanding it.
“How long has it been?”
All five women had their eyes on her, waiting for her answer. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “Three years.”
Jen sighed softly. “How did it happen?”
Please don’t make me say the words. “He was killed in Afghanistan.”
“I’m so sorry. My husband was a soldier, too. I understand.”
Nina expected to feel the searing pain of loss again, but Charlotte’s soft tone of understanding scrubbed off the sharp edges she usually encountered. The realization left an uneasy sensation in her chest. “Well, as much as I’d like to spend time getting to know each other, I think it best if we start our session. We only have an hour.”
“Well, then I’ll go first.” Evelyn took a deep breath and smiled. “This is my last meeting. I won’t be back.”
Mumbles of disbelief traveled around the room.
“Remember that job offer I had in Louisville? Well, I took it. I’m leaving Friday.”
The women quickly surrounded their friend and hugged her, expressing their joy.
Evelyn sat back down. “I was so dependent on my husband that, when he died, I was lost. I never believed I could do anything without him. It took me seven years, but here I am, ready to move away from the only home I’ve ever known and start a new life in a new city. And I’m excited.”
“I wish I was as brave as you.” Trudy adjusted her glasses. “I could never leave Hastings, let alone Mississippi. I’d be terrified.” She looked at Nina. “Were you scared to leave Chicago and come here?”
Caught off guard, Nina searched for a proper response. She was supposed to facilitate this session, not participate in it, but the women expected an answer. “Not really. Though I didn’t think about it too much. Kathryn called, and I was able to help, so I came.”
Trudy sank back into her chair. “Everyone is braver than me.”
Jen reached over and squeezed her hand. “Nonsense. You just need to build your self-confidence.”
Paula nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with staying in one place your whole life. Remember, Kitty said, we each have a growing trail to walk, and it’s different for each of us. It just takes some of us longer to deal with the grief.”
“Or not deal.” Charlotte spoke up. “I wish I’d faced it sooner. It’s been ten years, and I’m only now starting to move forward. What does that say about me?”
Nina listened to the various conversations and the admissions as the women shared their varied journeys down “the widow’s walk to wholeness,” as Kathryn called it. Before she knew it, the session was over, and she realized her anxiety had been for nothing.
As she lay in bed that night, their comments burrowed into her mind. She’d seen herself in each of the women. Denying the reality, afraid to move forward, feeling lost and inadequate. She’d always believed she was alone in those feelings. Despite knowing the stages of grief and recovery, they never seemed to apply to her, only her patients.
The women were as warm and friendly as Kathryn had said. The session had gone better than she’d anticipated. It had practically run itself. All she had to do was observe and record, and offer an encouraging word.
Next week she’d be far less anxious about the group. They might even give her more to think about. But she’d have to be more careful about sharing her own story. She wasn’t ready for that and probably never would be.
* * *
He was running, but his feet weighed a ton, making forward progress difficult. He saw the soldier fall. He shouted, but he was too late. Two soldiers, hands clasped in the dust and debris of the explosion. He’d failed in his mission. He’d vowed to protect the man with his life, but he’d allowed his chaplain to be killed.
Bret sat up in the bed, sweat running down his neck and beading up on his forehead. It had been a long time since he’d had the dream. Months. Why had it resurfaced now?
Sleep now was pointless. He got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a glass of tea. The house was stuffy, so he opted for the cool darkness of the back porch. A few moments later, the back door opened and his father joined him. Bret willed him to leave, but he knew he wouldn’t and that talking about the dream usually helped—some.
“Same old dream or something new?”
“Same.”
“How long you plan on nursing this load of guilt?”
“Dad, don’t.”
“It was an accident. Not your fault. His choice. Not yours.”
“My responsibility. My failure. Only two military chaplains killed in battle in the last fifty years, and one of them was mine.”
“The army doesn’t blame you, and the good Lord has forgiven you, so you must like carrying that weight on your back, or you’d let it go.” Dad stood. “Same way you keep blaming yourself for Sylvia walking out. Her fault. Not yours.”
Bret set his jaw. His father had no idea the depth of his guilt where his marriage was concerned. He should have seen how unhappy Sylvia was. He should have known that he wasn’t pulling his weight.
“Find someone to talk to, son, before this thing eats you alive.”
Nina Johnson’s face came to mind. Bret had a feeling she would understand. He had no idea what her issue was, but the chain-mail coat she wore around her heart was familiar. If it weren’t for his girls, he’d be wearing one as thick and impenetrable as hers. He doubted being so withdrawn was good for a psychologist. She should understand things better than most. Unless she’d been hurt deeper than most. Maybe therapists, like medical doctors, made the worst patients. Too close to the trees to see the forest they were lost in.
He hated the thought of the lovely Nina lost and alone. It was a hard way to live. And for some reason, it was important to him for her to be happy.
* * *
It was Friday. Nina ran a hand through her hair and let her gaze travel around Kitty’s office. Maybe she should have stayed home today. There were no patients scheduled. Dottie wouldn’t be here. Nina could have stayed at the hotel, buried her head beneath the pillow and waited for tomorrow to come. But she’d learned from painful experience that trying to ignore this day only made it longer. It was best to keep busy. She still had dozens of case histories to read over, and after the widows’ meeting, she wanted to learn more about each of her ladies.
They were all so strong and confident. She envied their ability to walk through their grief and come out in the later years feeling whole and filled with hope and a sense of purpose. Things she would never experience. But they had fired her curiosity, and some of the things they’d said had forced her to think about her own situation. Which was why she wanted to be better prepared next week. She had to be able to control the discussion and steer it away from herself.
An email popped up on her cell screen, illuminating the time and date. Tears pierced the backs of her eyes. She forced them away. She had to get through today in one piece, and the only way to do that was to work. Hard.
Bret had tried to question her about her withdrawn mood on the way to work, but she’d brushed it off as fatigue from the stressful first week on the job. Thankfully, he remained silent during the rest of the ride. Once there, she’d hurried to the office and pulled an emotional blanket around herself.
Five years ago, this day, she’d lost the most precious thing in her life. Her daughter, Molly. Surviving this day was the hardest thing she faced each year.
The stack of patient files kept her busy through to midafternoon. A box lunch from the hotel had helped her avoid going out to eat. Bret must have had a busy day since he hadn’t popped in to check on her. Either that or her cold-shoulder attitude this morning had scared him off. Strangely enough, she was getting used to him watching out for her. It had been a long time since anyone had cared about how she was doing.
She glanced at the clock. In a couple of hours, she could go home, hide under the covers and watch some mindless pay-per-view movie, and when she woke up tomorrow, she could put it all behind her for another year.
“Nina.”
She looked up as Bret came through her office door. Her heart lurched when two little girls scurried in behind him.
“I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
Caught off guard, she could only stare. No, please, not now. She wasn’t strong enough to face children today. Tomorrow.
From somewhere far off, she heard his voice as he introduced his children. He touched the top of each little head lovingly as he spoke.
“This is Olivia—she’s eight—and this one is Georgiana. She’s five.”
She recalled Bret mentioning he had two daughters, but she’d ignored it. She didn’t want to know about Bret’s personal life. The less she knew, the less involved she’d become.
The sight of the older girl plunged a hot knife into her throat. She was the same age as Molly when... The memories she kept locked away came clawing back, and she was powerless to stop them. She gritted her teeth and tried to look pleasant.
The girls said hello, and Georgie waved, a big smile on her sweet little face. “Hello.” She wasn’t sure she actually made an audible sound, because blood surged loudly in her ears, and her heart thundered so hard her chest hurt. She thought Bret said something about the girls wanting to meet her, but she wasn’t sure about that.
“Can we color?” The little one bounced on her toes.
“Miss Kitty keeps books and colors for the children, and sometimes she colors with us. Do you like to color?”
Olivia’s question stole her breath. Molly loved to color. She looked at Bret and saw his expression fade from proud parent to friendly smile to deep concern. She should say something. Explain, but her heart was being shredded. The two little girls with their pigtails and sweet smiles were yanking the thick cover from her deeply buried memories. Memories that would consume her if she let them loose.
“Girls, why don’t you go back to my office and tell Miss Jackie that I said you can have some cookies. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“But we just met the pretty lady.”
“Go on. Grandpa will be here soon to pick you up.”
Nina managed to say goodbye in a calm voice, but the minute the girls were gone, she turned her back and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Are you all right? I didn’t mean to barge in. I get carried away with my girls. I think everyone should find them as adorable as I do. I never considered that you might not like children.”
His words sliced through her emotional fog. “I like children.”
“Really? Most people smile when they see little kids. You gritted your teeth and went pale as a ghost.”
Her conscience pressed like an anvil upon her spirit. She couldn’t keep living like this. “I was surprised. That’s all. I wasn’t expecting to see them today.” Tears filled her eyes. She snatched a tissue from the box on her desk, willing herself to stop. Crying would only bring about more questions, and she wasn’t in any condition to answer them.
“Nina. What’s going on? Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I’m fine. Just go back to work.” The sob escaped her throat before she could stop it.

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