One Day in Apple Grove (20 page)

Cait couldn’t stop sighing, watching him sprint down the street to his office.

“Come on,” Peggy said, taking Cait by the hand. “You can fill me in while you check out the back burner on our stove.”

“I thought you just wanted to talk to me?”

“I do, but Grace will probably make an excuse to come on over to make sure you’re working.”

“Right,” Cait agreed. “Let me grab my tools.” She followed Peggy into the diner’s kitchen.

“Hey,” Cait said. “What did you spill down this burner? It’s a mess.”

“Don’t remember,” Peggy said. “Things boil over, we mop up as best we can, but when it’s busy in here, there’s not a whole lot of time.”

“Peggy, dear,” Miss Trudi called out strolling into the diner. “How is your mother?”

“She’s fine, standing watch over our currant berries so the darned catbirds and robins don’t eat them all before they’re ripe.”

“Best jelly in the world,” Miss Trudi agreed. “Always make mine around the Fourth of July.”

“Depends on whether or not my dad wants
really
tart jelly or just tart jelly,” Peggy said with a smile. “Before the Fourth, super tart, and if Mom waits another few days, just tart.”

Cait wiped her hands on the clean rag she’d put in her toolbox that morning. “Will you call me when your mom is ready to make the jelly?”

Peggy’s smile was filled with understanding. “Absolutely. You know she loves having you there helping—as long as you don’t—”

“I know, I know,” Cait interrupted. “As long as I don’t touch the tops of the jelly jars as they are cooling…then she won’t know which ones were really sealed and which ones I helped to seal.”

“Well now, girls,” Miss Trudi said, after getting their attention. “You’ll both volunteer again to set up and clean up at Founder’s Day, won’t you?”

Peggy and Cait looked at one another and agreed, making Miss Trudi smile. Leaning over the counter so only Miss Trudi could hear, Peggy whispered, “Cait and Doc are going to rescue Jamie tonight. Rhonda’s putting up a story on the Internet right now and then going along later to document the rescue as it’s happening.”

“Well, that’s fine then,” the older woman said. “By the way, Cait, I’m so glad Doc’s tonic worked.”

Cait sputtered and Peggy swallowed her laughter so she could ask Miss Trudi, “Don’t you want a cup of tea?”

“Too busy right now, dear,” the older woman said. “I’ve got to stop off and chat with Honey B.,” she explained. “Details about the vow renewal. We want everything to be just perfect. After all, a woman wants this sort of thing to be just perfect.”

Miss Trudi paused in the doorway and asked, “How’s the design for the cake coming?”

Peggy sighed. “Kate’s done an amazing job. Wait until you see it.”

“Make sure it’s extra special,” Miss Trudi warned.

Peggy smiled. “It will be.”

“I’ll stop by later for that tea, dear.”

Watching the woman retreat, taking in Miss Trudi’s favorite outfit—jodhpurs, a crisp white button-down shirt, and wellies—Cait sighed. “I want to be Miss Trudi when I grow up.”

“Me too,” Peggy agreed, watching the older woman stride down the street before asking, “So how’s the stove?”

“Good as new.”

“How’s Doc’s stamina?”

Cait snorted and she slapped her hands over her mouth to keep from doing it again. “You are a wicked woman, Peggy McCormack, catching me off guard like that, hoping I’ll spill all of my secrets.”

“It’s part of my charm,” her friend preened, “and it used to work like one.”

Cait’s phone buzzed. “That’ll be Gracie.” She read the message. “Another repair job.” Cait’s gaze met her friend’s and confided, “I’m keeping him, Peggy.”

Peggy nodded. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

Cait was laughing as she waved good-bye and got into her car. She had a full day before they could put their plans to rescue Jamie into action.

By four thirty that afternoon she was exhausted, her face had scratches from the rotten wood she’d knocked loose while working on Miss Tisdale’s chicken coop, and she was so hungry she could have gnawed off her right hand.

“Should have stopped for lunch.” She knew better, but somehow with everything happening, time got away from her. So when Grace called, she was more than ready for a break.

“How are things on the home front, Gracie?”

Her sister sighed. “The usual, two more jobs for tomorrow and a cancellation. Your last stop has a stomach bug.”

“Whoa,” Cait said. “No need to catch something like that.”

“That’s what Mrs. Jenkins said.”

“I’m going to stop at the diner,” Cait told her sister. “I worked through lunch.”

“I’ll meet you over there,” her sister said before hanging up.

“Now I wonder what that’s all about.” Cleaning up the rest of her tools, she said good-bye to Miss Tisdale and drove into town.

There weren’t any spots left near the diner, so she parked behind the shop and walked up the alleyway between Mulcahys and the diner. The crowd of people gathered there caught her by surprise.

“Hey, Kate,” she called out, stepping inside. “Are you giving away free pie?”

The younger McCormack sister’s smile bloomed as she waved Cait inside. “Peggy just asked me to give you a call…but it’s better that you’re here!”

Cait smiled at the familiar faces of some of her friends and neighbors before asking, “Where’s Peggy?”

“Here.” She beamed, and the crowd made room for Peggy and Rhonda, who was hot on her heels.

“This is huge,” Rhonda said with a nod in Cait’s direction. “Huge!”

Before she could ask what they were talking about, the door opened behind them and Jack rushed in. “What’s the emergency?” His face was flushed, and he was limping, but he didn’t notice—he scanned the crowd and looked at her when he asked, “What’s going on?”

Cait shrugged. “I just got here after putting Miss Tisdale’s chicken coop back together. Don’t ask me.”

His gaze swept past her and then back again. His entire demeanor changed. “You’re hurt.” The brush of his fingertips along the edge of her scraped cheek soothed her.

“It’s just a scratch,” she protested, moving to make room for the people crowding around them.

“Let me look—” he began as the door opened wide behind him.

A ripple went through the crowd as Cait rubbed her eyes in disbelief, but she wasn’t seeing things. “Jamie!” Cait gave a hoot and elbowed her way to where Jack stood, staring at the puppy they’d planned to liberate in a few hours. The little dog wiggled in Mitch’s arms until he chuckled and handed the dog over to the still-silent Jack.

“What happened?” Cait asked.

Mitch looked from Rhonda to Cait and said, “Got this phone call about two hours ago,” he told them. “It seems that Ms. Blackwell will be going away on an extended vacation and wouldn’t be able to care for Crackers…uh…Jamie here.”

Cait and Jack shared a meaning-filled look. “Do tell,” Cait said, grinning at Rhonda and Peggy.

“She even brought back his bed, toys, food, and treats,” Mitch said with a smile.

Jack nuzzled the top of the dog’s head and Jamie gave a doggy groan of ecstasy. “Did she say what happened to him?”

The sheriff shook his head. “It was her only condition.”

“What was?” Cait asked.

“She looked me dead in the eye and I’m still not certain if she was lying through her teeth,” Mitch told them. “She said it was an accident, and that if you wanted full ownership of Jamie, you’d have to take her word for it.”

“Like hell—” Cait interrupted before Jack tugged on her braid. Surprised by his action, she turned her head to tell him to stop and got distracted by the look on Jack’s and Jamie’s faces.

“She said she spoke to Rhonda over at the
Gazette
.” The sheriff leveled a look at the woman, but Rhonda was pretending not to notice. “Apparently,” he continued, “Ms. Beaudine promised to write a follow-up a story about Ms. Blackwell’s magnanimous gesture if and when she gave the dog back to Jack…seeing as how she’d be traveling and no longer able to take care of him.”

“What a crock,” Peggy blurted out.

The crowd in the diner burst into laughter.

“We came as soon as we heard,” her father said, holding open the diner door for Mary. “Well,” he said with a smile, his gaze lingering on his daughter standing next to Jack and Jamie. “I see things are as they should be. Is there any coffee left?”

Laughter followed his question as Peggy scooted around the counter and started taking orders. By the time everyone gathered had congratulated Rhonda, Jack, and Cait on a job well done, not a crumb of the McCormack sisters’ baked goods remained.

Cait had stopped counting the number of cups of coffee her friends and neighbors had consumed as she shared the better half of a ham and American on rye with Jamie. The little dog quivered with excitement as she held him, giving Jack a chance to discuss his options with the sheriff.

By the time he sat back down on the stool next to her, most of the crowd had gone and Jamie was falling asleep in her arms. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” she asked.

“While you two were sharing that sandwich, I was talking to Mitch. We always knew he took his job seriously, but did you know he had Ms. Blackwell wait while the vet came and checked Jamie out?”

Cait looked over her shoulder and smiled. The sheriff was bending down to listen to something Honey B. was telling him. When Honey B. smiled, Mitch smiled. “He’s one of the good guys.”

Jack agreed. She laid a hand to his cheek and told him, “You are too.”

“So, can you come home with us?” Jack asked, gently stroking the furry ball of black in Cait’s lap.

“I need to pick up a few things at my house.”

Jack slipped his arm around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Such as?”

Cait looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear and whispered, “Clean shirt, underwear, toothbrush…you know, things.”

***

Jack loved the way her body curved into his and fit just right. Caitlin Mulcahy and Jamie fit into his life like pieces to a puzzle. It felt good, knowing that she’d be going home with him and they’d have their family back together—
whoa
, he thought.

Family? Cait and Jamie?

Yeah, he realized, they were everything he wanted. When he heard Honey B.’s delighted laughter he ached, wishing he and Cait were married and starting on their own family. He wanted that with Cait, craved that with Cait. How had he fallen in love with her so completely, so quickly?

“Are you ready?” she asked, pulling him from his deep thoughts.

“Yes. Do you mind holding Jamie while I drive?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. Can we stop at my house on the way?”

“Can you ask Gracie to drop off what you need?”

“Hey, Gracie.” Cait motioned to her sister. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Can you grab a couple of things for me and bring them to Jack’s?”

After she told Grace what she needed, Grace looked at her sister and then down at Jamie. “No problem.” She paused, then said, “He’s such a lucky little dog. I wish I didn’t get all choked up around dogs.”

“I’m that way with cats,” Jack told her as he helped Cait to her feet.

“See you later, Pop,” Cait called out as Jack held the door open for her. “Bye, Mitch. Give Honey B. and little Mitch a hug for me.”

Holding Cait’s hand and walking beneath the big, old shade trees lining Main Street, Jack realized that he had turned an important corner in his recovery. He had balance in his life that hadn’t been there since he’d been wounded in Iraq. He brought Cait’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

The desire simmering in her eyes went to his head like two fingers of whiskey. He slipped his arm around her while she cuddled the little ball of fuzz. Being with Jamie opened their eyes to one another—until they could see below the surface to the very heart of that person and they’d discovered a growing love that whispered of forever.

When he opened the door to his Jeep for her, he knew that he’d have to trust her with the whole story.

Jamie slept the whole ride home but woke up when the Jeep stopped. “We’re home, boy.” Jack ruffled the fur on the top of the pup’s head.

After being set on his feet by Cait, Jamie waited while she got the bags out of the backseat. They both laughed, watching Jamie run around in circles, chasing his tail.

Taking their time going up the walk, they waited for Jamie to pee first and then catch up.

Reaching for one of the bags, Jack opened the door, saying, “Welcome home, Jamie.”

“I can’t believe your parents will be here tonight,” Cait said, giving Jamie what he wanted—a full body rub—before getting up to stand outside the bathroom door. “It’s going to be weird not staying overnight,” she confessed. “I’ve gotten used to you two.” Life had changed dramatically from that afternoon at the diner when Mitch carried Jamie inside.

“You could stay over,” Jack called out from the shower.

She opened the bathroom door and chuckled. “Oh, did you tell your parents about me?”

“Yes and no.”

“Well, that clears everything up—Jamie, no!” she called out, chasing the dog out of the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, peering around the curtain.

“Too late,” she told him, holding up the mangled pair of boxers Jack had left on the toilet seat.

“Damn. Can you grab another pair out of my top drawer?”

They had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks, but it was the first time she’d been asked to go in his underwear drawer. She hesitated—it seemed so personal, something a wife would do for her husband.

“You sure?”

“Relax, Mulcahy, it’s just boxers and socks.”

“All right.” Rummaging through that drawer, she only found socks and T-shirts. “Nothing here. Should I keep looking?”

“Yeah.”

She found shorts, jeans, and gray T-shirts from his days in the navy, but no boxers. She was laughing and pushing Jamie away when he tried to stick his face in Jack’s bottom drawer. “Cut it out,” she told the dog.

But he wasn’t listening and continued to nose at the contents of the drawer until he unearthed a small black box and started to chew it. “Give me that.” After a brief tug of war, she landed on her butt and the box fell open on the floor.

The glint of the medal didn’t register at first. “Hey, Jack, Jamie just found a medal—”

“Caitlin, wait—” Jack stood with a towel wrapped around his hips, the ends clutched in his fist.

Their gazes met and held for a heartbeat before he bent and scooped the box and medal in one swift movement.

“Jack, I think—”

“Not now.”

“But I—”

***

He took the box with him into the bathroom and got dressed without his boxers. By the time he emerged, he could hear Cait and Jamie downstairs.

“If I don’t tell her, I’m FUBAR,” he mumbled one of his favorite acronyms from his days in the military. He knew what he needed to do, but still he hesitated. When he heard the back door slam, he shot to his feet. “Caitlin!” He ran down the stairs, jerked open the door, and almost knocked her over as she and Jamie came back inside.

She frowned up at him. “I’m really trying to help you here, Jack, but you have to work with me.”

“I know, Cait. I’m sorry—it’s hard for me.”

She kissed his cheek and told him, “I’m late for work. Can we talk later?”

A few hours later, Jack looked up as Joe Mulcahy walked into his office. “How did I miss that Joe had an appointment today?”

Mrs. Sweeney shook her head. “You didn’t.”

Joe nodded. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Jack’s gut tied itself into a knot, but he said, “Come on back.” He sat behind his desk and motioned to the empty chair.

Joe sat and asked, “What’s got a bee in Caitlin’s bonnet?”

Jack’s shoulders slumped forward. “She and Jamie found my Purple Heart.”

“So you talked about it?”

“No.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “So, that’s what’s at the bottom of your troubles?”

“I never said—”

“A word,” Joe finished for him. “Does your dad know that you earned one?”

“Earned one?” Jack ground out. “An IED exploded as I was stitching one of the marines in the battalion I was responsible for back together. He died,” he rasped, “and they gave me a freaking medal for it!”

Blinded by anger, tortured with guilt, he didn’t realize the other man had wrapped his arms around him, but when the order came to, “Breathe, Corpsman,” he obeyed.

“At ease,” Joe commanded, stepping back.

Jack snapped back to the present as the red haze cleared. “Damn.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Jack hesitated and Joe said, “You can tell the doctor over at the VA, you can tell me, or you can tell your dad when he gets here in about two hours.”

Where did he begin?

“What was the marine’s name?” Joe’s question burned in Jack’s gut until he thought he’d puke.

“Corpsman?” Joe bit out.

Reacting to the tone, he answered automatically, “Yes, sir?”

“I asked you a question.”

Jack didn’t look up when he rasped, “John Napolitano.”

“Where was he from?”

“Nebraska.”

“What happened?”

“He was already badly injured, and I had been stitching him up but didn’t realize he’d been hit again until I saw the pool of blood seeping out from beneath his flak jacket.”

“He was their leader?”

Jack nodded. “He insisted that I help the others first. One of the marines was probably going to lose a leg, but I did the best I could, applying the tourniquet. I don’t know what ever happened to him.”

“You worked hard to save them.”

Joe’s statement eased the tight knot forming in Jack’s throat. He swallowed and answered, “Yes.”

“Then what?”

“I was stitching our squad leader back together when I heard someone shout, ‘Incoming.’”

“And?”

“I reacted.”

Joe placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “What did you do?”

“I threw myself over two of the guys.”

While Jack stared off into space reliving that horrible instant in time, Joe nodded. “You saved their lives.”

Jack shook his head sadly. “Our squad leader died.”

“What about the others?”

“They survived.”

“And you?”

“Three operations and my leg’s almost straight again. Removing most of the shrapnel was hell.”

Joe nodded. “Caught some myself years back. Still think there’s a piece floating around in my side. So the powers that be gave you a Purple Heart for being wounded in action.”

Jack nodded. “Didn’t seem right, what with Nappy dead.”

“Nappy?”

“Napolitano.”

“When are you going to tell Cait?”

“Tell her what, that I’m a failure?”

“How did you fail?”

“I didn’t work fast enough. I should have saved him.”

“With all of your years in the navy, he couldn’t have been the first or only one you weren’t able to save.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped again. “Nappy was my friend.”

“As a doctor, you know you can’t save everyone—that’s up to a much higher power than yours. That IED didn’t have Napolitano’s name, or yours, on it. Did it?”

“No, but—”

“Don’t let it be personal, Jack…it was war.”

“War is hell.”

“I know.” Joe leaned forward. “Talk to Cait.”

“I will. Thanks, Joe.”

“Glad to help.”

“You’re pretty sharp, Joe.”

“Had to be,” Joe said. “I had to raise three daughters through their toughest years with only one oar, and without a rudder…my Maureen.”

“Salty talk,” Jack chuckled. “That’s what my mom always said when Dad and I started to talk like sailors.”

“Hell, you were both in the navy.”

“And you were in the coast guard.”

Joe grinned. “Best time of my life…aside from meeting Maureen and having three beautiful daughters.”

Jack watched his eyes and noticed they weren’t quite as sad as they’d been a year or so ago. “How did you cope when…” Jack couldn’t finish the question, remembering how horrible that time had been in Meg’s family’s life.

“At first, one breath at a time,” he told Jack. “And then it was one step at a time, and finally, with your dad’s help, one day at a time.”

“Smart man, my dad,” Jack said.

“Talk to him,” Joe urged, “then talk to my girl. Life’s too short to throw away what you two have because of your misplaced sense of pride.”

“It’s not pride,” Jack told him.

“What is it then?”

He hesitated. “Guilt.”

Joe added, “Ah, your mother raised you to be a good Irish son, then?”

Jack’s lips twitched at Joe’s exaggerated brogue. He nodded.

“So, you were raised with Irish Catholic guilt?” Jack shrugged, and Joe said, “The worst kind.”

Jack felt his lips twitching again, this time he gave in and smiled. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem,” Joe said, turning to go.

“I thought you needed to see me about something.”

Joe stopped in the doorway and grinned. “I did.”

Jack watched him leave, surprised to discover he was still smiling when he got the text from his mom that they’d made it home and were being lavished with puppy kisses.

He told them he had a stop to make on the way home, packed up, and drove to the Mulcahys’ place.

When he showed up at the back door, it was Grace and not Cait who stood there smiling. “She’s upstairs, go on up.”

Jack took the stairs two at a time and walked down the hallway. It felt good, he realized. He had a mission in life; he had a purpose—unburden the whole of his demons to Cait and move forward with their relationship from there. He was keeping her.

He was smiling when he pounded on her bedroom door.

“Be down in a minute, Grace.”

“It’s not Grace.”

When she didn’t immediately open the door, he knocked again, “Open up, Cait. I need to talk to you.”

“I’m half-dressed and my dad and sister are downstairs, which is where you should be. I’ll be right down.”

“But you’ve been after me to talk to you for days.”

“I changed my mind. Maybe I’m not as ready as I thought if it’s taken you this long to open up. I don’t want to scare you away if I don’t react the way you expect me to. I can’t take the chance of letting you down. Please, just go downstairs.”

“I can’t. I need to talk to you now, and I need to see your face when I tell you what happened.”

“Can’t you come back in an hour?”

“No! I’ve waited long enough. Open the door.”

“Not yet—”

“I have your father’s permission to break it down,” he lied, because if he didn’t spill his guts right now, he might not be able to for months!

There was a moment of silence before she told him, “Go ahead.”

God, why was she hiding from him? Was she really that scared? He felt like the Big Bad Wolf, but if that was the way she wanted to play it, so be it. He took a few steps back and shouted, “Stand back, you ornery Irishwoman!”

He got a running start and was about to bash into the door with his shoulder when it opened up. At the last second, he twisted his body and rammed his shoulder—instead of his head—into the plaster wall, cracking it.

Gasping for breath, certain that he’d dislocated his shoulder, he groaned as she demanded, “What did you call me?”

“Ornery,” he rasped, holding on to his aching shoulder while he struggled to stand. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, digging deep to get past the pain. “You badger me for days and tell me to talk to you…and now that I am—”

Her face paled. “Please just give me a little more time. This is too important to you—to us—for me to hear what you have to say and react instinctively—and take a chance of losing you forever. I love you too much to risk it.”

How could he refuse? He let her pass. “I love you, Caitlin.” He reached for her. She looked up at him with fear and tears in her eyes. The emotions tumbling through her humbled him. “I love you, Cait, and I’ll wait. Come over when you’re ready to listen—oh and one more thing.” He locked gazes with her. “I’ll come looking for you if you don’t.”

She squeezed his hand and nodded. “I’ll be there, I just need time to clear my head.”

Watching her walk away, knowing what he had to do, preferring to do it himself, he slammed his shoulder into the doorway and felt it shift back into place in the socket.

“God that hurts.” When he walked into the kitchen, Grace handed him a glass of water and two aspirins. “She’s probably going to talk to Peggy.”

He nodded, took them, and handed her the glass. “Thanks, Gracie.”

“She’s crazy about you, Doc.”

He slowly smiled. “I’m crazy right back.”

“I think you’re both certifiable,” Grace told him.

He drove home with a dull ache in his shoulder and a much sharper one in his leg. After all of his worry, damned if her car wasn’t parked next to his folks. “Guess she sorted it out quicker than I thought she would.”

The door opened, but instead of the woman he wanted to talk to, Jamie ran out and jumped on his bad leg. Jack went down hard, landing on the shoulder he had just put back into place. He saw stars and then he saw Caitlin—two of her—standing over him, begging him to speak to her.

“Speak to you?” he grumbled. “I’ve been trying to do that since you opened that damn door and I dislocated my damn shoulder.”

“Hmmm,” his mother said from where she stood behind Caitlin. “That’s two damns in one sentence. Our darling boy is upset about something.” Instead of offering Jack any sympathy, she put her arm through Cait’s. “Why don’t I make us a nice cup of tea?”

“John, dear,” his mother called out as she walked into the house. “Jack might need your help getting up.”

Jamie couldn’t understand why Jack wasn’t moving, so he jumped on Jack’s chest with his two front paws and started to lick Jack’s face. “At least you aren’t leaving me.”

“What’s all this about, Cora—Son!” His father knelt down by Jack’s side. “What happened to you?”

Jack cleared his throat, and told him, “It all started with this little dog.”

His father helped him to his feet and checked his eyes and the back of his head for lumps and bumps. “Where does it hurt the most?”

Jack grimaced. “My shoulder. Dislocated it when I hit the wall in Cait’s bedroom.”

His father’s eyes widened, then he said, “I’m having trouble wrapping my thoughts around that one, Jack. What exactly were you doing at the Mulcahys’ house?”

Jack sighed; he’d have to fess up sooner or later. Joe might stop by and it would be better if his father knew the truth before he had to bury his son. “Breaking her door down.”

“Then how did you hit the wall?” his dad asked, helping Jack to stand.

“She opened the door.”