House Calls Read online

  The ache in her heart became a persistent dull throb. She dropped her hands from around his neck and lowered her head. “I can’t.”

  He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You want this as much as I do. Why do you keep fighting it?”

  “You know why.”

  “We get along, we have fun together. We’re sleeping together, for goodness’ sake!”

  “Not in the biblical sense.”

  “Why not? What can I do to prove to you that I have genuine feelings for you, Maggie? I’m probably one of the most emotionally stunted men you’re ever going to meet, but if you tell me what it is I should say, what I should do, I swear I’ll do it.”

  “If this about sex—”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You know damn well, this is not about sex. Why can’t you trust this? Trust me?”

  “This isn’t a trust issue. I don’t doubt that your feelings are genuine. For now, anyway. But you’re going to feel differently when we go home.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “What if you do?”

  “But what if I don’t?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest. And Pete held her, because he didn’t know what else to do. He felt like banging his head against the wall. He hated those bastards from her high school for making her feel unlovable, and her mother for making her feel inadequate. And she was wrong about one thing. This was a trust issue. And it wasn’t him she didn’t trust, it was her own convoluted feelings that were messing with her head.

  Short of getting down on his knees and begging, he didn’t know what to do or what to say to make her understand how deeply he cared for her. He might even love her. In fact, what he felt for Maggie went far beyond any form of love he’d felt before. It was complex and peaceful and exciting and frustrating. And the best thing that had ever happened to him. But he knew she wasn’t ready to hear that. To tell her now would only drive her farther away. But eventually he would tell her. He would make her see what was so completely obvious to him—they were a perfect match. He would find the right time.

  The only question was, when?

  Pete reached up, watching his hand as it neared the elevator button, feeling an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. He’d done this before, he was sure of it. He heard the loud pops and spun around.

  Then he knew, it was the shooting. It was happening all over again. Maybe this time it could be different. Maybe this time he could save her.

  He ran past the screaming people, down the hall that seemed to stretch for miles, so far there seemed to be no end to it. He ran faster, feeling lighter than air, as if he were flying, still it stretched on. There was more gunfire, more screaming, but it sounded fuzzy and far away. Then he saw it, the junction of the hallway, where he would turn and find Rachel, and he already knew it was too late. Still, he couldn’t stop, even though it meant facing the bullets that were sure to rip through him. He couldn’t make himself turn around.

  He finally rounded the corner, and there she was, lying in the hallway, soaked in her own blood.

  No!

  He knew what was next and he tried to stop it, tried to hit Rewind, but it was no use. His legs refused to stop moving. Then he felt it, the searing pain as the first slug hit his chest and stopped him dead in his tracks.

  “Pete!”

  The second slug threw him backward, then his knee exploded, sending him crashing to the floor.

  “Pete, wake up!”

  Pete gasped and surged up in bed, his breath coming in hard rasps, bile rising in his throat. “Damn it!”

  Maggie knelt on the bed beside him, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  No, it wasn’t okay. Not at all. Instead of getting better, this was only getting worse.

  He scrubbed both hands across his face, but he couldn’t erase the vision of Rachel lying there. He could still feel the sting of the bullets. The pain. That would never go away.

  “I am so damned sick of this,” he said. “Is one night of uninterrupted sleep too much to ask for?”

  As she had been every other night, Maggie was his voice of reason. “You’re still healing. Give it time.”

  She was right. Though physically his wounds had healed, emotionally he was a still a wreck, and he didn’t know how to fix that.

  “I didn’t save her,” he said. “I failed Rachel.”

  “She died instantly, doc. There’s no way you could have saved her.”

  Her words tore through him with the same ferocity as the bullets that had ripped through his chest. “If I hadn’t taken my break, if I had been there with her—”

  “You would both be dead.”

  He shook his head. “No. I could have gotten in front of her, I could have blocked it.”

  “And the second you went down, they would have shot her, too. It doesn’t even matter, because it happened, and it’s over, and all the guilt and remorse and what-ifs are not going to change the fact that she died and you lived.”

  The rational part of his brain knew that. He’d replayed that night a thousand different ways, and every time, as irrational as it was, he’d drawn the same conclusion; he should have been able to save her.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Pete.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then forgive yourself.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Maggie lay back on the pillow. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

  He lay down and curled up beside her, his arm around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. And as on every other night they’d spent together, she wrapped her arms around him and held him. He breathed in the scent of her skin, her hair, felt her stomach rise and fall as she breathed, needing her so badly he ached. She was in his arms, yet so damned far away.

  “You’re not sick of having to get up and come in here every night?” he asked.

  She stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know it’s wrong, but I like sleeping with you.”

  It wasn’t wrong. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right. All she had to do was say the word and he would have her out of that nightshirt. But unless she threw herself at him and said “take me,” or gave him at least a vague sign that she wanted anything other than a platonic relationship, he would respect her wishes. Sleeping together—in the platonic sense—would have to be enough to sate this ever-growing need to be close to her. He was a patient man, so he would give her time. Time to see that what he felt for her had nothing to do with gratitude.

  She was downright bossy at times, stubborn as a mule and annoyingly independent. She was also funny and sweet and understanding. And vulnerable. She was the first woman he’d felt he could really talk to. He liked talking to her. She knew more about him than Lizzy had ever known, or had ever wanted to know.

  He and Lizzy had never been much for socializing with each other. They had always been busy doing other things—physically challenging activities that required little conversation. Now that he thought about it, he’d been engaged to a woman he barely knew. Not the way he knew Maggie. All those things he used to do, the activities he thought he would so miss after the shooting, had barely crossed his mind. Despite all the crap he was going through with the nightmares and the therapy, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier.

  Beside him, Maggie’s breathing had become slow and deep. She always fell asleep first. And as he had every night, he pressed a kiss to her temple, laid his head on her shoulder, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Twelve

  “Have you got a minute, Pete?” Jeremy stood in the door of the small, shabby little office the doctors at the clinic shared. It had been a long, busy five days, and now that Pete’s Friday shift had ended, he was taking some time to catch up on his charts.

  “Sure,” he told Jeremy, setting his pen down. “What’s up?”

  Jeremy took a seat on the edge of the desk. “Just wondering how it went this week. It wasn’t too much too soo
n?”

  The truth was, it felt damned good to be practising medicine again. The hours he worked here were nowhere close to the long, grueling shifts in the ER. This was a cakewalk. In fact, the end of his shift seemed to come too soon, and he found himself stalling, taking one or two more patients before he quit for the day. “It’s been good,” he said.

  “I noticed you’re not using the cane anymore. The therapy is going well?”

  “The truth is, I haven’t had much time for therapy this week, but I’ve been trying to keep active. I swim in the mornings and Maggie and I go for walks every evening. She’s talking about getting bikes this weekend, now that her weight is up.”

  “She’s eating better?”

  “Not as much as I’d like, but we’re getting there.”

  “That’s good. She’s quite a girl.”

  Pete grinned. “She definitely has her moments.”

  “I’m having a barbecue a week from Saturday and I’d really like to have you and Maggie there. It’ll mainly be staff from the hospital and their families. We’re a pretty tight-knit group.”

  “I don’t want to intrude…”

  “No, it wouldn’t be an intrusion. A lot of people are interested in meeting you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “How do you like it up here, Pete?”

  Pete sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, wondering where exactly Jeremy was going with this. “I like it. Why do you ask?”

  “Would you ever consider relocating here permanently?”

  “I guess that all depends.”

  “The doctor you’re filling in for this week has just been offered a private practice in Arizona. We’re looking for a replacement.”

  “For the clinic?”

  “The clinic and the ER. With your experience, you’d be a hell of an asset to the team. It wouldn’t be the hectic pace you’re used to in the city. The only gunshot wounds we get here are from hunting accidents, and stabbings are pretty rare. But Gaylord is a good place to live, a nice place to raise a family.”

  Pete’s mind whirled with the possibility. Him and Maggie moving up to Gaylord permanently, starting a life together here.

  He liked it.

  The truth was, he didn’t have much to go back to in Detroit, and he hadn’t missed it since he’d been gone. But was he ready for that kind of commitment? Did he know for sure that Maggie was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? It stunned him how quickly the answer came. He didn’t even have to give it a second thought.

  Yes.

  Without question, Maggie was the one. But how did she feel about him? What if she didn’t want to live here? What if she didn’t want the same things he did? They’d never really talked about it, not even casually.

  “Think about it,” Jeremy said, rising from the desk. “Come to the barbecue Saturday and meet everyone.”

  “Yeah,” Pete said. He and Maggie were going to have to have a talk. And soon. “I’ll definitely do that.”

  “That’s four of a kind,” Maggie said, adding up the dice. “Twenty-six points.”

  As she always did on nights that it rained, Maggie had raided the game closet. This time she’d chosen Yahtzee, and as usual she was creaming him.

  He offered her the bowl of low-fat microwave popcorn. She hesitated, then took a handful without his insistence, popping a few kernels in her mouth, chewing slowly. Two weeks ago, she would never have considered an evening snack without a fair amount of persuasion from him. Though it was a slow, frustrating process, he was convinced she was well on her way to a new, healthy attitude.

  “Your turn,” she said, popping a few more kernels in her mouth.

  “I don’t know why I bother,” Pete grumbled, but he scooped up the dice and rolled—two ones, two threes and a six. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

  Maggie peeked over at his score sheet. “You could try for a full house.”

  “I already crossed that off. All I need are fives and a long straight.” He picked up the entire mess and rolled it over, and again got nothing he could use. “This is stupid.”

  “You keep saying that, yet here we are still playing.”

  She was right. Because despite the fact that he consistently lost, and Maggie had done her fair share of gloating, he was having fun. He wasn’t scaling a mountain, or zipping over the snow on skis. He wasn’t challenging himself physically, yet somehow, he was still having a good time.

  Because he was with Maggie, and no matter what it was they did together, even if he was just sitting and watching her, how her eyes lit up when she smiled, or the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating, he couldn’t escape this feeling of utter contentment.

  But did she feel it, too?

  “You have one more roll,” she said.

  He grabbed all the dice, rolled again, and got a big fat nothing.

  “Wow, this really isn’t your night,” she said, gathering up the dice and rolling a long straight her first try.

  When the game was over, Maggie had once again slaughtered him. She yawned, stretching like a feline, and looked at the clock above the sink in the kitchen. “No wonder I’m so tired. It’s after eleven.”

  “I guess we should call it a night,” he agreed, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. Although to him, going to bed just meant waking in an hour or two, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. It meant images of blood and death. And the more he worked in the clinic, the worse the dreams escalated.

  Sometimes he wondered if it would never end. But he wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t let it interfere with his life any longer. He was going to beat this thing.

  “You want the bathroom first?” Maggie asked.

  “You can have it,” he said. “I’ll clean up our mess.”

  “Okee-dokee.”

  Maggie headed for the bathroom and Pete put the game away, then gathered the dishes they had used for their soda and popcorn. By the time he’d washed and dried them, Maggie was ready for bed.

  Pete used the bathroom next, brushing his teeth and, of course, picking up Maggie’s discarded clothes from the floor and tossing them in the hamper. It had become a regular part of his routine—one he didn’t mind so much anymore. It seemed a small price to pay considering all she’d done for him—forcing him to come here and face his demons. He was a better man because of her. A better person.

  He finished up in the bathroom and walked to his room, thinking for a second as he got there that he’d made a wrong turn. Maggie sat in his bed, dressed in her nightshirt, reading a book.

  “Hey,” he said, not quite sure what to make of this. Either she’d had a serious change of heart, or he was hallucinating. Either way, she looked damned sexy sitting there, her legs curled under her, her face freshly scrubbed. She looked almost…wholesome.

  She looked up and smiled, setting her book in her lap. “Hey. I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing in your bed.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “I have a theory.”

  He leaned in the doorway and folded his arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah? A theory about what?”

  “You never have nightmares when I’m with you, right?”

  He thought about it and realized she was right. Once she climbed in his bed, he slept like a baby. “Not so far, no.”

  “Then I was thinking that if I sleep with you all night, maybe you won’t have a nightmare. And let’s face it, I’m probably going to wind up here eventually anyway.”

  “There is a definite logic to that.”

  “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  Oh, no, he wanted her to. He just didn’t know how much more of this he could take, how much longer they could sleep in the same bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, before he went off the deep end. But she was right. Maybe sleeping together all night would keep the nightmares away. It was worth a shot at least. He would sell his soul for a night of uninterrupted sleep. “I think it’s a good idea.”

&
nbsp; She set her book on the night stand and patted the bed beside her. “Hop in.”

  Outside, rain beat relentlessly against the side of the cottage, and cool, damp air lifted the curtains. Good sleeping weather.

  He walked toward the bed, unfastening his shorts, and Maggie’s eyes widened a fraction. “You might want to either turn out the light or close your eyes.”

  Her gaze strayed down to his crotch and lingered there. “I, um, don’t suppose I could talk you into wearing pajamas to bed?”

  “I don’t own any.”

  “Oh. Boxers then?”

  “I’ve been sleeping in the buff since college. I don’t think I could sleep with boxers on.”

  “And you’re not shy, are you?”

  He grinned. “Nope. I see naked people in the ER every day. I kind of feel like a body is just a body.”

  Maggie reached over and turned out the light, plunging them into darkness, and he dropped his shorts and boxers to the floor.

  “So,” she asked. “If I was sitting here naked, I would just be a body to you?”

  “No. If you were sitting here naked, we wouldn’t be talking.” He climbed in bed next to her, covering himself with the sheet. “You want to know what we would be doing?”

  “No, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She slipped under the sheet beside him, and they both lay down.

  Maggie turned on her side to face him, and he did the same. As his eyes adjusted, he could barely make out the contour of her body beside him, the shadowy features of her face. Normally, after one of his dreams, he didn’t hesitate to cuddle up next to her. Tonight he wasn’t sure if he should. If that would be too…suggestive. Too forward.

  As if she’d been reading his mind, she said, “This is weird.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “But nice, too. I like sleeping with you. Even though you’re a close sleeper.”

  “Close sleeper?”

  “You hog the bed, doc.”

  He smiled. She was right. The way he looked at it, if you were going to share a bed with someone, you might as well enjoy it. He liked to be close to Maggie. In bed was the only time she really let him get that close. Even then it wasn’t nearly close enough.