Authors: Debbie Macomber
I leaned my head against his upper arm.
“He was smart, too, always got top grades. He could have gone into any profession and made a hell of a lot more money than he did as a social worker, but that was what he loved.”
He took a moment to collect himself before he continued. “Brad was a natural born leader. Student body president in both high school and college; he could have gone into politics if he'd wanted. That wasn't for him, though. For Brad it was all about the kids.”
“I do wish I'd known him.”
Nick hugged me then. The moment was tender, sweet. I understood what it had taken Nick to tell me about his brother and the tremendous loss his death had brought about.
We sat in companionable silence for several moments. Nick was the first to speak. “Everything okay with you?”
“I'm good.”
“Jo Marie?”
“Better now that Mark is at the house.” We'd had long conversations regarding Jo Marie and Mark and the complications in their relationship.
“Has Mark met Greg yet?”
“No, but I have a distinct feeling that's about to happen.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Greg phoned shortly after Jo Marie brought Mark home.” I hadn't heard the conversation, but I knew it'd been brief. What I didn't mention was that I heard Jo Marie tell Greg that his stopping by to see her on Monday wouldn't be a good idea. Although I couldn't hear his answer, I knew it upset Jo Marie that Greg was so insistent. She must have mentioned it to Mark because he was equally adamant that Greg come. He apparently talked Jo Marie into it.
“So Mark's about to meet his competition,” Nick thought aloud. “I don't know how I'd feel if there was another man in your life.”
I didn't know if I should be grateful or not.
Tucking his finger beneath my chin, Nick turned my head so that I was forced to meet his look. “I have the most overwhelming urge to kiss you. Are you going to let me, Em?”
I debated how best to answer and then smiled and nodded.
Slowly his mouth descended to mine. It'd been weeks since he'd last kissed me, and all I could say was that it had been worth the wait.
“Are you comfortable?” Jo Marie asked, bringing me a cup of hot tea. I sat on the veranda, overlooking the cove. I'd dreamed of this moment, of sitting with Jo Marie as I had so often in the past. I'd missed these moments more than anything. It was here, with Jo Marie at my side, that I'd found the courage to confront my past. It was here that I'd made the decision to find Ibrahim and right the wrong done to my friend and his family.
“Mark?” she said, shaking me from my thoughts. “Do you need anything more?”
“I'm perfect, thank you.” I motioned toward the chair at my side. “Sit with me awhile.”
“I can't, I've got things I need to do.” I heard the regret in her voice.
“Sit,” I insisted. “Just for a few minutes. I feel stronger when you're with me.” This weakness was a constant irritation. I barely had the strength to walk more than a few yards before I tired. Yes, I was healing, but the progress was much slower than I wanted. I'd been through hell and healing would take time. The doctors had repeatedly reminded me my body had its own schedule and didn't necessarily care about mine. Time, however, wasn't on my side.
“Okay,” Jo Marie agreed and sat down beside me. What I said was true. She did give me strength. Having her close had a strong impact on me. It was as if my body sucked in her energy, her love, and that aided the healing process.
She'd been fussing over me ever since I'd arrived at the inn, waiting on me, checking every few minutes, giving me my medications, seeing that I was as comfortable as she could make me. Anything I needed or wanted she was there to make happen. While I deeply appreciated her efforts, I didn't want her wearing herself out on my account.
I reached for her hand, loving the feel of her smooth skin, a stark contrast to my own much darker one. “Relax,” I told her.
“I have stuff⦔
“Relax,” I ordered. “There's nothing more important than you sitting with me.”
“But⦔
“Close your eyes.”
“Mark.”
“Close your eyes,” I demanded a second time.
She complied, begrudgingly.
“Now exhale.”
“Why?”
“It's a relaxing technique,” I explained.
“I'm relaxed.”
She wasn't, but I wouldn't argue with her.
“Feel the sun?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head toward the warm light.
“It's going to be a beautiful day.”
“It is,” she agreed, her voice fading.
It was supposed to be eighty-five and sunny, a perfect summer day in the Pacific Northwest.
I waited several minutes, and from the way Jo Marie's shoulders sagged forward I thought she might have fallen asleep.
Good.
A cat nap would refresh her. Being a burden to Jo Marie didn't sit well with me. True, I needed her for now, but I hoped that would change soon.
While she rested, I let my mind wander over the future. Just before I was discharged from the hospital I'd heard from Milford. The Pentagon had an offer; this one was perfect for Jo Marie and me. The job would place me in Bremerton, which was directly across the water from Cedar Cove. Unfortunately, it came with a stipulation that would require me to return to Iraq. Nothing came easy these days. I knew how strongly Jo Marie felt about my going back and I wasn't sure I could do that to her. It left me to wonder why life had to be so complicated. Despite my doubts, it seemed the various government agencies did speak to one another.
If I took the job I would be able to do what I had been trained to do and what I loved and still be able to be with Jo Marie. However, if I decided to return to the Middle East I took a very big risk of losing Jo Marie. I had duty tugging at one side and my love for Jo Marie on the other. It wasn't an easy decision, and frankly, I was miserable, unsure what would be best.
As I was pondering my choices, Jo Marie jerked herself awake and sat upright. “You let me fall asleep.”
“You needed it.”
“Mark,” she complained.
I stopped her by reaching for her hand and kissing it. “Okay, get busy. You're baking me cookies, right?”
She laughed.
“You promised to fatten me up, remember?”
“So I did.” Leaning forward, she kissed my cheek and headed back into the house.
Breathing in the fresh air, I soaked in the peace and quiet of the morning. A bee collected nectar from the potted red Martha Washington geraniums Jo Marie had set along the edge of the porch. I'd built those wooden containers for her.
My gaze automatically traveled to the gazebo. Jo Marie had shown me a photo, and I'd drawn up the plans and built that as well. My fingerprints were all over this inn. I remembered the first time I sat down at my drafting table with the photo of the gazebo Jo Marie wanted me to use as a model. I was already crazy in love with her, and holding all that emotion inside of me.
As I stared at the glossy sheet she'd torn from a magazine, I'd imagined the two of us standing before a man of God and exchanging our own wedding vows there. Even then I knew I wanted to marry her. I'd waited, bided my time, tried to find a way to explain my past and what had led me to this point. I'd hardly been able to live with myself, and it seemed grossly unfair to ask Jo Marie to share this life with me. It was then that I realized I couldn't. As much as I loved her, I didn't consider myself worthy of the love of this woman. A woman whose dead husband had been a war hero when I considered myself a coward for turning my back on my friend. That afternoon was when I made the decision to do the impossible and return to Iraq. The real question was how I could properly love her when I didn't love myself.
With my head full of marrying Jo Marie, I'd drawn up the plans for the gazebo. I wanted her as my wife, needed her with me. Now there was some other guy who wanted her. No way was I letting this interloper get the upper hand. By all that was holy, I vowed I wouldn't lose her. I refused to live without Jo Marie. If she thought I was going to step aside and let some other man steal her away from me, then she didn't know me nearly as well as she should.
Now that I was at the inn, Greg called when he knew Jo Marie was away. Emily answered the phone. I heard her explain that Jo Marie was out for the afternoon. Then she came to ask me if I was available to talk.
Greg and I spoke briefly and arranged a time to meet this afternoon. Although my mind had been in turmoil, plagued with doubts and worries, my body took control and I'd slept for two hours before he arrived.
Emily must have said something to Jo Marie because she was nervous all morning. She fluttered from room to room like a butterfly inspecting garden flowers. I didn't know what she expected to happen. It wasn't likely Greg would attempt to wrestle me to the ground or that we'd take twenty paces and fire dueling pistols at each other. I was looking forward to meeting him and squaring matters. I determined that by the time he left he'd know in no uncertain terms Jo Marie was mine.
Greg arrived at about four. I couldn't hear what Jo Marie said, but I heard his response. “I'll introduce myself.”
We'd both agreed earlier that this conversation was between the two of us. Neither of us wanted to involve Jo Marie.
Greg found me sitting on the veranda. “I'm Greg,” he said. “Greg Endsley.”
He was about my height, but he had a good fifty pounds on me, solid from the look of him. He was probably better-looking than me and had a kind face. I could see I was up against a worthy opponent.
I made the effort to stand.
Greg immediately motioned for me to stay seated, which I ignored. Yes, I was weak, but I wasn't giving him the advantage.
“Please, join me,” I said. “Jo Marie has refreshments ready for us.” At my request she'd brought out a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of freshly baked cookies earlier.
Greg took the chair next to mine and for the first few minutes we exchanged pleasantries. We discussed the weather, the view, his job, and the Seahawks, who had played the third of their preseason games over the weekend.
Greg claimed the first cookie. “Never tasted better cookies than the ones Jo Marie bakes,” he said, keeping his tone cordial.
Instant anger hit me like a punch to my jaw. The thought of her baking him cookies was enough to cause me to clench my fists. It took a couple moments for me to bring my rage under control. I didn't agree or disagree with him. It demanded discipline not to explain that these would be the last of her cookies he would ever taste.
Starting off our conversation with a challenge wouldn't serve either of us well. With determined effort I bit my tongue.
“So,” I said, after taking a sip of my iced tea, hoping the ice-cold tea would cool my irritation, “I understand you've been seeing Jo Marie for a few weeks now.”
“Yes, we've dated exclusively since the Fourth of July.”
“Exclusively?” I challenged. “If you'll recall, she's been with me nearly every day since my return.”
“Right,” he reluctantly admitted. “I meant other than when she was with you.”
“She spent countless hours at the hospital with me.” I needed to make it clear that seeing me was her priority.
“Right again,” he admitted, “but at the time you were close to death. Had our circumstances been reversed, I feel she would have wanted to be at my bedside as well.”
Like bloody hell she would have been.
I forced myself not to snap back, and I took a couple moments to compose myself. “I've loved Jo Marie for three years. You've known her for what? Three weeks?”
“Actually, it's a bit longer than that. Time doesn't give either one of us an advantage or priority.” Greg's hand tightened around the tall glass, the condensation leaking between his fingers.
“I agree,” I said, and then decided to confront him head-on. “Do you love her?”
He didn't hesitate. “Yes.”
I'd argue that he couldn't possibly have strong feelings for her on such short acquaintance, but I'd fallen in love with her myself almost at first sight.
“You left,” Greg reminded me.
“I came back, too.”
“You told her to move on with her life and she has.”
“She didn't stop loving me.”
Greg ignored that. “She's not the same woman she was when you left. She's changed.”
“And you know this how?” I challenged.
“She told me.”
“That doesn't alter the fact that I love her. I've changed, too. That's what people do, we grow, evolveâ”
“Meet other people,” Greg butted in. “She met me and now I have strong feelings for her, too. You were off doing whatever it was you were doing and she was alone, worried, stressed-out, and struggling. Then she met me and everything changed for the good.”
“I'm not letting her go.” If he could be direct, then so could I.
“Then we're at an impasse, because I'm not giving her up, either,” Greg told me, raising his voice.
The sun sank behind a cloud and shade invaded the inn and yard. That seemed fitting for the way our conversation had turned. Neither one of us was willing to concede to the other.
It was time to settle this once and for all. I had to admire his determination, although it wouldn't do him any good. “If you force her to decide between the two of us, you'll lose,” I told him flat out.
Greg sighed. “I was hoping we would avoid putting her in that position.”
Of course he was. I'd win and he knew it.
“If you think I'm going to step aside so you can steal away the woman I love, then you're in for a big disappointment.”
Greg grinned. “That isn't why I decided the two of us needed to meet and have this talk.”
Despite the fact that he cared about Jo Marie, which made me want to punch him in the gut, I admired his openness and honesty. Arranging this meeting wasn't comfortable for either of us.