Ben propped his crutches against the wall and hobbled to the table. What had he been thinking? It was bad enough that he’d asked her to lunch after talking himself out of it on the way to therapy. Jackson had needed the extra time to run some errands—the fib about having asked him to come later was just that, a fib. Still, why hadn’t he been able to leave well enough alone and simply start fresh, without worrying about whether or not she really was Marie? He sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

“Spill it.”

Ben looked up and couldn’t quite stop the half-chuckle as Jackson set down a can of soda, slid another across the table to Ben, and tore open a bag of cheese-flavored corn chips. “Do you think we stop learning as we get older?”

Jackson frowned and shook the bag before dipping his hand in and pulling out a handful of chips. “Nope. If that was the case, Paige would’ve given up on me completely after that fiasco with Senator Carson instead of giving me a second chance. Plus, I learned enough this summer to realize that no matter how sure I am that I’m in love with her, it was too soon to say anything about it. Even if the dinner at Marilyn’s would’ve been the perfect romantic setting to do just that.”

Ben popped the top on his soda. “It’s just me, then. Cause that last little bit of discretion would’ve come in handy at lunch.”

“What happened? I thought you just grabbed a sub next door while you were waiting for me.”

“I asked Rebecca to come. She said yes.”

Jackson crunched on chips, his gaze steady on Ben. “And...you confessed your undying love?”

Ben took a long drink from his can. It wasn’t quite like that. But it was close.

“You didn’t. You’ve known her what, two days? That’s fast even for me, bro.”

“It wasn’t exactly like that. In fact, it’s kind of your fault.”

Jackson sat back, eyes wide. “How?”

“You’re the one who got me convinced that she might actually be Marie. So I asked her.”

“And it’s her?”

Ben nodded.

“Wow. Did she say anything about why she never got in touch with you?”

He shrugged. “Basically that it was a long story. I waited, but she didn’t elaborate. It didn’t seem like there was any point in pushing. So I got up and left.”

“I’m not seeing the problem. At least now you know that it’s her. Gives you a place to start, right?”

Ben cleared his throat. “I might have mentioned, as a parting shot, that I’d fallen in love with her that summer.”

Jackson shook his head and smirked. “Eh, so what? Shouldn’t she have been able to figure that out? Or at least suspect?”

“And then I might have finished it with indicating that the situation really hadn’t changed.”

“Ah.” Jackson reached for another handful of chips. “That changes things slightly. What’d she say?”

“Dunno. I walked out.”

“Dude.”

“I know, I know. But what was I supposed to do?” Other than keep his mouth shut in the first place. But that ship sailed as soon as he asked about her name. Ben drained the soda and crushed the can.

Jackson pushed the chips toward Ben. “What now?”

“Change physical therapists, I guess. There’re a ton who work there. I imagine it can’t be too hard to figure out what days she’s not available, right?”

“Sure you want to do that? I mean, aren’t you upset because she just disappeared after summer camp? But now you’re going to do the same thing?”

Ben blew out a breath. Jackson had a point. Not one he really wanted to consider, but a point nonetheless. Was he going to run? “It’s not quite the same thing.”

“How is it different? Are you going to keep in touch with her another way? Ask her out again?”

“Well, no. I hadn’t planned—”

“Then it’s the same thing. You’re running just like she did. Just like Paige did this summer.”

Ouch. Ben frowned. “What do you suggest?”

Jackson shrugged. “Seems to me, if you want someone in your life, you pursue them.”

“And if they run the other way?”

“Run faster.”

Ben closed his laptop and pushed back from his desk. He raised his leg, extending his knee like he did in therapy, wincing at the tinge of soreness. What should he do about Marie-slash-Rebecca? Jackson’s suggestion made sense. But he’d already been down that road once. All that had gained him was a very polite cease and desist letter from the camp and a rejected counselor application the next spring. He didn’t blame them for the latter. Sending that many letters probably verged on stalking. But how else was he supposed to have reached her? At least knowing that Marie was her middle name made it clear why he hadn’t been able to find her. His Internet skills weren’t as sorely lacking as he’d wondered.

It didn’t answer the immediate question though. Should he stick with it? See if there was anything there for them to build on? He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d never gotten over her. Every woman he’d dated in the last ten years had failed to measure up to his memories of Marie—Rebecca—whatever he was supposed to call her. And even though he hadn’t even scratched the surface of who she was today, there were enough hints to suggest that given a little time, he’d be even more in love with the woman she’d become.

So where did that leave him? Could he walk away? Or had God brought her back into his life for a reason? Even if that was the case, maybe it was time to use a little more strategy in his pursuit.

He scowled as his cell rang. It wasn’t a number he recognized. It really was too bad the ‘Do Not Call’ registry didn’t work like it was supposed to. Though it was possible this was someone connected with the mission downtown. He hadn’t programmed all those numbers into his phone yet.

“Hello?”

Silence, then a throat cleared. “Ben?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Rebecca?”

“Yeah. Hi. Um. I got your home number from your client file. Not strictly allowed...I hope you’re not mad. I just wasn’t happy with how we left things this afternoon. And...is it too late to call?”

Ben chuckled. The nerves in her voice were something new. Encouraging. “No, it’s not too late. And as I’d planned to give you my number this afternoon, I’m glad you looked it up.”

“Okay. Good. Look, I’m sorry. About so much, but we can start with camp. I only ever got one letter from you. I don’t know if the camp forwarded any others or what, but...I was going through some stuff, it started that summer and took me the better part of a year to wade through. When I finally felt settled enough to write back, I couldn’t find your note. I didn’t mean to leave things that way.”

That explained a little, though not everything. “It’s okay. The stuff you were going through...did that have to do with why you were going by your middle name?”

“Ha. Yeah. It’s all tied together and not really phone conversation material. It’s probably enough to say that I needed to figure out who I really was. Camp was the first step in that process.”

That made sense. That was a large part of college, wasn’t it? Figuring out who you were, separate from your parents. He’d never felt the need to use a different name, but all things considered, he had a pretty normal family. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’d be interested to listen. So, about lunch...”

“Please don’t. I had feelings for you, too. I’m sorry I handled them so badly.”

Had? Did that mean they were gone now? “It was college.”

“That it was.” Silence stretched across the line. “Anyway. I wanted to say thank you for lunch and let you know that I hope you don’t feel awkward about me being your physical therapist. But if you do, I’ll understand if you need to switch to someone else.”

“If you’re okay with me staying on, I’d just as soon not rearrange my schedule.”

“Great. Then I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Rebecca?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to ask you out again. For a real date, this time. I figure you deserve a heads up.”

“Oh. Um.”

“Don’t say anything. I haven’t asked yet. I’ll see you at PT. Good night.”

Ben ended the call and smiled. Run faster? No. It felt like some subtle stalking might be in order. Time to formulate a game plan.