Cal swore he was so tired when his head hit the pillow he wanted nothing more than to sleep until his alarm went off at six-thirty. And perhaps he would have if the aroma of something spicy and delicious hadn’t wafted up to tease his senses. He rolled over and glanced at the clock. Four in the morning! What the heck could Ashley be doing up at this hour? And what was that he smelled cooking? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t breakfast food.
Curiosity overrode fatigue.
He strode downstairs, wearing just his boxers, and found Ashley standing at the kitchen stove. Glossy dark-brown tendrils were escaping her ponytail to frame her delicate heart-shaped face. She was clad in a pair of loose-fitting light-blue cotton pajamas that brought out the blue of her eyes and were the perfect foil for the soft golden glow of her skin and the pinkness of her cheeks. Her delicate bare feet peeked beneath the hem of her pajama pants, and there was something so sexy about those polished red toenails, it was all he could do to stay where he was. Oblivious to his presence, she was pouring a dark-red spice into the palm of her hand. Satisfied with the amount, she added it to the pot of browning beef and onions. As it hit the sizzling meat and the aroma escaped into the room, his eyes widened in surprise. “Are you making chili?”
Ashley glanced up, for a moment looking like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Then she shrugged as if it were the most natural occurrence in the world. “Had a hankering for it,” she said, in her best Southern drawl. She went back to the stove, adding salt and fresh-ground pepper to the sizzling meat.
Cal leaned against the counter, watching as she opened a can of crushed tomatoes and poured them into the pan. The kitchen smelled even more delicious. He grinned. “You’re not the only one.” Now he wanted some, too. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. “How long until it will be ready?”
She trembled at his touch—evidence that she was no less affected by his presence than he was by hers. Flushing self-consciously, she slipped by him, to the open pantry shelves and returned with a can of ranch-style pinto beans. “Ten, fifteen minutes.” She added those, too, and gave it another stir while he appreciated the intimacy of being with her like this. He realized there had been far too few moments such as this since the two of them had been married. More often, they had been hopping into bed and back out again as one of them rushed off to the hospital. Their union had been more like a hot, passionate affair than a marriage.
Which was why it was so awkward now…why, suddenly, as she picked up the tall glass of milk next to the stove and drank deeply from it, that she was having trouble meeting his eyes. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said quietly, picking up the notepad on the table. Tearing off the top sheet, which had some sort of list on it, she carried it over to the far counter and slipped it into her shoulder bag. “I was trying to be quiet.”
And she had been. He was the one who couldn’t stay away from her. But that was hardly a surprise. After all, he’d never been able to stay away from her.
“You’re up awfully early,” he observed, and watched her cheeks grow ever pinker as an almost guilty look came into her eyes. Wondering what was going on with her, Cal padded closer.
“I went to bed really early.” She aimed a trigger finger at his exposed belly-button, before turning her gaze slowly back to his face. “And speaking of bed, shouldn’t you still be in yours?”
Cal would be—if she were there with him. As it was, he couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be.
Ashley had obviously turned up the thermostat when she had come downstairs, and the kitchen was warm enough not to require additional clothing. Though from the distracted way Ashley kept looking at his bare chest, Cal knew she would have preferred he go and get a robe to cover up. “I’ll get back there eventually,” he told her, enjoying the ardent look in her eyes as much as the free-flowing electricity between them.
She frowned and looked at him as if she wished it would be sooner rather than later. She went back to stir the pan of fragrant, bubbling chili. She opened the cupboard and leaned across the counter to reach the shelf containing the soup bowls. “Want some?”
“Absolutely.” Cal couldn’t help noticing the way the neckline of her pajama top fell open as she moved. Instead of a glimpse of her breasts, however, he got a look at a stretchy white cotton undershirt that came up halfway to her collarbone.
Not that this wasn’t sexy, too—especially when he thought about taking both garments off her.
Reminding himself of his promise not to make love to her again—at least not yet—Cal went to get the crackers. Coming back to the table he was surprised to see her take something out of the oven. French fries?
Ashley caught his glance and blushed again. “I had a hankering for them, too,” she said.
Obviously, Cal thought. Were these hankerings the reason Ashley was suddenly having trouble with her weight? Not that he minded her new voluptuousness.
He thought she looked amazing. Especially now that she looked as if she were catching up on her rest. “Want some ketchup?” he asked as he opened the fridge.
Ashley shook her head. “Extra-sharp cheddar?”
Cal grabbed it out of the cheese drawer and the milk off the shelf, then shut the door with the back of his arm, and carried both to the table.
He nodded at the paper she had slipped into her purse. “What are you working on?”
“Your Valentine’s Day present. And don’t even think about peeking,” she scolded as she went to retrieve it and tucked it into the pants pockets on her pajamas. “Because you’re not finding out what it is until next month.”
Cal grinned as they sat down at the breakfast table in front of the bay window. Her working on a present for him had to be a good sign, didn’t it? “Since when do you eat fries and chili first thing in the morning?” he asked her curiously.
She shrugged as she grated some cheddar over top of her chili and then dipped another crispy golden fry into the steaming bowl. Abruptly, he had the feeling in his gut that she was once again withholding every bit as much as she was telling him. Not that this was a surprise. It had been a pattern that had developed in the early days of their marriage.
“Since right now,” Ashley said, looking as if she were in heaven as the concoction melted on her tongue. She washed it down with another swallow of icy-cold milk. Suddenly, the teasing look was back in her blue eyes, the flirtatious note in her soft voice. “I take it from the astonished look you’re giving me that you’ve never eaten them together?”
She seemed happy again. Really happy. Maybe happier than he had ever seen her.
“No,” Cal said, struggling to keep his mind on the conversation. “And I wasn’t aware you had, either.” Ashley was usually a lean grilled chicken or fish and healthy fruit and vegetables kind of woman. The carbs she ate were healthy and whole grain. Whereas he…well, Cal always had appreciated potatoes—any kind—and spicy calorie-laden foods like chili. Was her making chili for him now an attempt to find her way back into his heart? To better mesh their lives? Whatever the case, he appreciated her going to all the trouble.
She rested her hand on her upturned chin and regarded him inscrutably. “I thought it might be a good combination.”
Cal leaned toward her as she fed him a fry dipped in chili and sharp cheddar. The combination was delicious—spicy and rich.
“You like it, don’t you?” she teased.
I like you. “Actually, I do,” Cal said with surprise.
Her blue eyes gleamed with pleasure and pride. “Tell me about the surgery,” Ashley said.
He filled her in while they finished eating. “Sounds like it was a challenging case,” Ashley noted when he had finished.
Cal nodded. It had been.
“So, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Ashley continued in a soft, wifely tone.
Yeah, Cal thought as he stacked their dishes and cleared the table, he should be catching twenty winks right about now. But it was hard falling asleep and staying asleep when she was under the same roof in another bed. It would be so much easier if he at least had her to snuggle with under the covers. He always slept better with Ashley wrapped in his arms. And maybe so did she.
He took her hand and brought her gently to her feet. “You should be in bed, too.”
Drawn slightly off balance, she bumped into him, then steadied herself by putting one hand against his chest. “I wasn’t in surgery most of the night.” She turned away from him and began putting the leftover chili away.
Funny, how his energy came surging back whenever he was around her. “I’m a doctor. I’m used to getting by on little sleep. And so are you.” He pitched in to help her finish the dishes.
“True.” Ashley wiped down the table, countertops and stove.
“But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing up in the middle of the night,” Cal continued.
Ashley hesitated, as if trying to think of a reasonable explanation for her insomnia. “Must be the time difference,” Ashley speculated finally, looking pleased she had come up with something that sounded logical, when Cal’s intuition was telling him her excuse didn’t ring true. Something specific was keeping her from sleeping. She just didn’t want to share it with him, he realized, stung.
“After all, Hawaii-time it’s only 11:00 p.m. right now,” Ashley continued matter-of-factly.
She had a point there, Cal had to concede.
“But you’re still on Eastern Standard Time and, as you pointed out earlier this evening, you have to work tomorrow. So you really should go back to bed right now,” Ashley said.
He regarded her, reluctant to comply, even when he knew she was right. He could use more rest.
She batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. “Come on, doc.” She crooked a finger his way. “I’ll tuck you in.”
He grinned and began to relax as she clasped his hand lightly in hers. “Oh you will, will you?” he bantered back. As they moved up the stairs and paused in the doorway of the master bedroom, Cal murmured hopefully. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to join me.”
Something akin to the deep and abiding love she used to have for him—and he hoped still did—flickered in her pretty blue eyes. “Something tells me neither of us would get much sleep if I were to do that.”
“Yeah,” Cal agreed, aware all over again as she led him toward the big empty bed how much he liked spending time with her. “But think of the fun we’d have.” Think of how much closer we’d feel. Think about the possibility of me getting you to lower your guard once and for all.
But, he noted sadly, it wasn’t going to happen now. Tonight, she was still holding onto her secrets and private doubts, whatever they were. “How about a rain check?” she countered, easing him down into the sheets.
Cal tightened his grip on her fingers and looked deep into her eyes. The fear that he had somehow unknowingly contributed to the distance between them filled him with guilt. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he warned her soberly, letting her know once and for all he intended to make her his again.
She leaned forward and brushed a light kiss to his temple that was as tender as it was playful. “Somehow, Cal, I knew you would.”
DURING LUNCHTIME on Monday at the Wedding Inn, Cal caught sight of his mother and sister-in-law. “Just the two women I wanted to see,” he said cheerfully. “Have you got time to have a top-secret meeting with me?”
Helen glanced at her watch. The owner of the premier wedding establishment in North Carolina, she was usually on the run from the time she showed up for work in the morning until the time she left. Joe’s wife, Emma, was just as busy in her wedding-planning duties.
Looking as stylish and pulled-together as ever in a pastel-pink business suit, Helen ran a hand through her short red hair. “I’ve got fifteen minutes,” Helen said.
“I can spare you ten,” the petite and elegantly pretty Emma said.
The three of them went back to Helen’s office. Helen closed the door, insuring their privacy. She slipped behind her desk, her eyes focusing on Cal with maternal concern. “What brings you over here in the middle of a work day?” she asked, perplexed.
“I want to know if you’re booked for Valentine’s Day.”
Emma and Helen chuckled as if that was the funniest thing they had ever heard and shook their heads. “Honey, we’re booked three years ahead for Valentine’s Day,” Helen said.
“How can people book three years ahead?” Cal asked. When he and Ashley had decided to get married, they had only waited six months. He couldn’t imagine waiting three years—for anything!
Helen smiled. “Some people just know.”
“And are willing to wait for the exact time they want,” Emma added.
Cal was willing to wait for the exact woman. He wasn’t giving up no matter how long it took to make his marriage to Ashley work the way it should to give them the happily-ever-after they had both always wanted. Which was, of course, why he was here. He had come up with an idea to help speed the process, now that the groundwork had been laid. Especially since he only had three-and-a-half more weeks to convince Ashley they needed a lot more face time with each other than they’d been having.
“I want to have a wedding here on Valentine’s Day,” Cal told both women.
Two sets of eyebrows raised. “Mind me asking whose?” Emma interjected, with her usual tranquility.
Cal sat down in one of the chairs in front of his mother’s desk and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Ashley’s and mine. I want to renew our vows on our wedding anniversary—February fourteenth.”
Emma smiled and sat on the edge of Helen’s desk, facing both Cal and Helen. “That’s very romantic,” Emma said approvingly.
Helen’s eyes narrowed as if to say not so fast. “What does Ashley think about this?” she asked curiously.
Leave it to his mother to hit the nail on the head, without even trying. “She doesn’t know,” Cal stated, pretending not to see his mother’s obvious reservations about his plan. “I’m going to surprise her.”
Helen splayed a hand over her heart. She looked as if she might faint. “You can’t surprise a woman with a wedding!” Helen said, aghast.
Au contraire. Cal held his ground. “I can if I want to,” he said stubbornly.
Emma looked at Helen. Although no words were spoken, much seemed to pass between them. “I think it’s a very romantic idea, Cal,” Emma said tactfully at last, while Helen nodded in agreement. “But there are so many details that would have to be decided. And usually brides want very much to decide those things.”
Cal knew that was true—Ashley had possessed very definite opinions on just about everything the first time around. “Can’t we just use the same flowers and stuff we used at our first wedding ceremony?” Cal asked.
“I suppose.” Looking reluctant to snuff out such a romantic idea, Helen bit her lip.
“What about the dress?” Emma asked. Again, she and Helen exchanged telltale looks. “Without sounding indelicate…are you sure Ashley will fit into the dress she wore the last time? As I recall it was quite form-fitting.”
Cal hadn’t thought about that, either. It was a good point. The last thing he wanted to do was point out to everyone else she had recently gained five pounds as well as several inches in all the right places. “So we’ll get her a new one,” Cal said.
“How?” Helen leaned forward, determined to be practical now. “We don’t even have her measurements.”
Cal shrugged, not going to let something that inconsequential derail his plans to add even more romance to his flagging marriage. “You know her style. I’m sure between the two of you that you could pick something out that she’d like to wear.”
Helen and Emma exchanged trepidation-filled looks, then turned back at Cal.
“I really want to do this, Mom,” Cal said before they could argue further.
“And you’re sure it needs to be a surprise?” Emma ascertained slowly.
Thinking about how commitment-shy Ashley had seemed lately, he nodded.
“What about the Mustang you bought for her?” Helen interjected curiously. “I thought that was for Valentine’s Day.”
Cal rubbed the tension gathering in the muscles in the back of his neck. “I already gave it to her. She needed something to drive now, and well…it’s a long story,” he said vaguely, not willing to go into specifics because of Ashley’s pique over the Hart family’s involvement in their marital difficulties.
His mother looked at him as if she just bet there was much more to tell.
Emma glanced at her watch again. “Oh, darn, I’ve got an appointment with Polly Pruett and Peter Sheridan to pick out their reception-table settings.”
Cal understood their business was important. He stood, knowing he had to get back to the hospital, too. “Can I count on your help with this? Especially the dress and all that?” he asked Emma.
Emma nodded and patted Cal’s arm reassuringly as she passed. “Just get me some undergarments and a dress or a skirt or pair of slacks that fit Ashley well and bring those in to me. We’ll run them over to the dressmaker and take the measurements off of those. If you’re discreet about it, Ashley will never suspect a thing.”
Cal had known he could count on the women in the family to come through for him. “Thanks, Emma.” He stood, hugging her briefly.
“You romantic devil, you.” Emma stood on tiptoe, bussed his cheek, then slipped out the door.
Helen picked up the pen in front of her and looked at Cal. “Now. Suppose you tell me what’s really going on,” she said.
LEAVE IT TO HIS MOTHER to cut straight to the chase. “What do you mean?”
Helen got up to close the door to her office, ensuring them privacy once again. “Are you really this insecure about your marriage?” she said.
Too restless to sit, Cal leaned up against the wall and put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He should have known his mother wouldn’t pull any punches. Especially when it came to something this important. But if she thought he was backing out, just because there were logistical details to be worked out, she had another think coming. “I’m being romantic,” he defended himself.
Helen sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms in front of her. She regarded Cal sagely. “Romantic or desperate?”
Ouch again! Cal let his jaw slide forward pugnaciously. “I admit I want her to stay.”
Exasperation mixed with the kindness in Helen’s eyes. She looked at Cal as if she didn’t know whether to hug him or scold him. “To the point you’re trying to buy her love?”
Cal tensed. A muscle working in his jaw, he moved away from the wall and began to pace the small confines of his mother’s elegantly outfitted office. “That’s not what I’m doing.” Cal moved to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the elegantly landscaped grounds where many spring, summer and fall weddings were held.
Helen walked over to adjust the elegant red and gold velvet drapes that were so perfectly suited for the century-old inn. “The car alone was a pretty big gift. Now you’re talking about throwing yourselves another wedding.”
So Cal was generous when it came to his wife? He wasn’t about to apologize for gifting Ashley as she deserved. Besides, he had done something like this before—the first year they were married, he’d given her the farm and the house for Christmas.
“Albeit on a much smaller scale,” Cal cautioned, letting his mother know the rest of his plans. He surveyed her sternly. “This time around I’d like it to be just family and a few close friends.” Not the splashy social occasion it had been the first time.
“Still,” Helen shook her head disparagingly, “for someone who is still in the process of paying off his medical school debts, that’s a pretty big deal.”
Cal knew the gift was impractical. That wasn’t the point. “I want her to know I love her,” he said firmly.
Helen dropped the pen back onto the center of her desk. Abruptly, she looked as restless and unhappy as Cal felt. “And you think giving Ashley presents will accomplish that?” Helen said, as if it were the dumbest idea he’d ever had.
“Well, God knows nothing else has.”
Cal hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. But now that he had, they just hung there in the increasingly uncomfortable silence that followed.
Helen stepped nearer and compassion resounded in her low tone. “You really think Ashley questions your feelings for her?”
Cal knew his mother wished he would admit otherwise. But he wasn’t going to lie, not now, when he was finally putting voice to some of his own deepest fears. He dropped back down into the chair, suddenly feeling as exhausted—and uncertain—as he had every right to be. Finished pretending, Cal looked up at his mother and reluctantly confessed, “I don’t know, Mom. We’ve said we loved each other dozens of times over the ten years we’ve been a couple.”
Just not recently.
“But?”
“I think she doubts something about us.” Cal just didn’t know quite what it was.
Helen’s mood turned as contemplative as Cal’s. “And why would she do that?” she asked gently.
And wasn’t that just the million-dollar question? Cal spread his hands wide. “Maybe because we lived apart from each other for two-and-a-half years. And you don’t have to remind me, I know you told me it was a dumb idea from the get-go to put our careers before our marriage.” But they had done it anyway and now they had to live with the consequences.
Cal shrugged again, aware his mother was waiting to hear the rest. He needed to tell someone close to him what was bothering him deep inside. “Because we stopped knowing how to open up to each other what was in our hearts and on our minds. Because there’s this distance between us, Mom, that sometimes has us feeling more like strangers than husband and wife.” Even if Ashley didn’t come right out and say so, he knew by the way she looked at him she felt that way. Damn. Listen to him. He sounded like some whiny kid. Cal shoved his hands through his hair. “I’m hoping that if we renew our vows, if we start fresh, we can fix this.” Because God knew he needed to make his marriage right.
Helen sighed, suddenly looking as deeply worried and discouraged as Cal. “Maybe you should consider counseling instead,” she suggested quietly.
Cal thought about how that was likely to go over. Not well, to put it lightly. He shook his head. “No. I know Ashley, Mom. If she won’t open up to me, she sure as heck won’t open up to any counselor. This is the way it has to be.”
Cal was sure he was doing the right thing. He and Ashley had to start communicating with each other before they would be able to believe in their future. Putting someone else in between them at this point would be as bad as putting miles between them. The way he saw it, if the car had worked to get her moving toward him, renewing their vows would be even better. “Now, are you going to help me?” Cal looked at his mother sternly. “Or should I be looking for a location other than the Wedding Inn this time around?” he asked impatiently.
Helen went back to her calendar. “Of course you can have the ceremony here, but it will have to be February thirteenth. There’s a wedding here earlier that day, but it should be cleared out by, oh—5:00 p.m., or so—and we could set up for yours for the eve of your wedding anniversary, if not the actual anniversary.”
Close enough, Cal decided. “That’d be fine.”
“And Cal, there’s one more thing—”
A knock sounded on Helen’s door. “Come in,” Helen said.
And much to Cal’s amazement and chagrin, Ashley walked in.
ASHLEY WASN’T SURE what had been going on between Cal and his mother before she opened the door, but the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“You wanted to see me, Helen?” Ashley asked cheerfully, deciding this once ignorance was just going to have to be bliss. Because she had enough troubles, trying to keep her pregnancy secret, finding a job, pleasing her parents, and mending her struggling marriage to Cal, without borrowing any more.
Not that this strain was any surprise. Cal had always been among the most private of Helen’s offspring, and the fact he wouldn’t confide what was on his mind had always made it hard for Helen to help him, as a kid and as an adult. And that was a shame, Ashley thought, because Helen Hart was one of the most understanding mothers Ashley had ever come in contact with. Given the chance…
Helen smiled warmly and gestured for Ashley to have a seat in the chair next to Cal’s. “I asked you to come over because I have a favor to ask. You’re planning to be here through February seventh, aren’t you?”
“Sure.” Ashley settled in her chair and crossed her legs at the knee. “Why?”
“Well, we have a wedding going on here that is just a disaster waiting to happen, I’m afraid,” Helen confessed, her anxiety apparent. “The bride will be eight-and-a-half months pregnant on her wedding day.”
Ashley did a double take as she contemplated that. “Whoa.”
“Yes, I know.” Helen shook her head, commiserating. “Both Emma and I tried to talk Polly Pruett out of getting married so close to her due date, but Polly was adamant about wanting a big wedding as close to Valentine’s Day as possible. Turns out her fiancé, Peter Sheridan, was insistent they tie the knot before the baby was born. And her parents—who are paying for this huge affair—refused to let the wedding happen any closer to Polly’s due date than that, so this was the best compromise we could come up with.”
“Where do I come in?” Ashley asked, aware that beside her Cal seemed to be relaxing. Maybe because the attention was no longer on him or whatever it was he and his mother had been discussing when she interrupted?
Helen continued, “I was wondering if you would agree to be here on call for any emergency, during the ceremony and the reception. Emma and I would rest easier knowing there was an Ob/Gyn on the premises. You know how stressful weddings are. And how emotional brides can be, under ordinary circumstances.”
“That I do,” Ashley said, recalling the hoopla surrounding their own ceremony.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley could see Cal had a funny look on his face. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Struggling to keep her mind on the conversation at hand, Ashley asked, “Who is her regular obstetrician, do you know?”
“Carlotta Ramirez. I would ask her to be here on standby but I know she is stretched pretty thin as it is with a husband and three kids and a solo medical practice.”
Unlike me, who has way too much time on my hands at the moment, Ashley thought. “I’d be happy to do this for you.”
“Thank you.” Helen released her breath. Looking relieved, she hastened to add, “The Inn would pay you your hourly rate, of course.”
Ashley lifted a hand. This was family. “You don’t have to do that, Helen.”
“I insist. If we take your time, we compensate you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t feel right about it.” Helen rose. “Polly and her fiancé are with Emma right now. Would you like to meet them?”
Ashley stood, too. “Absolutely.”
Helen looked at Cal, wordlessly inquiring if he wanted to tag along. “I’ve got to get back to the hospital,” he said, rolling slowly to his feet. As Helen and Cal’s glances collided, something unspoken passed between them that left Ashley feeling out of the loop.
Her heart aching that the distance between them would rear its head again now, Ashley forced herself once again to pretend she had noticed nothing amiss.
Relaxing slightly, Cal turned to Ashley and bussed her cheek. “I’ll meet you at home tonight, okay?” he said as he squeezed her shoulder.
Ashley nodded. She wondered, even as he was walking off down the hall, what he and his mother weren’t telling her.
“SOMETHING SURE smells good,” Cal said when he walked into the house shortly after seven o’clock.
Ashley looked up from the vegetables she was sautéing on the stove. Amazing how her heart could still leap when he entered a room. “Better than the chili and French fries, hmm?” she said, taking in his work appearance. She had gotten so used to seeing him in vacation attire or nothing at all, she had nearly forgotten how good he looked in a coordinating shirt and tie and dress slacks.
“Like you said.” Cal wrapped his hands around her waist and brought her close for a long, thorough kiss the moment he had his brown leather jacket off. His face and lips bore the cold of the winter air outside, and the combination of cool lips and hot wet tongue sent a ribbon of desire spiraling through her. His gray eyes glimmered with affection as he gazed raptly down at her, and murmured seductively, “An interesting choice for an interesting woman with a hankering.” He bent his head to kiss her again just as the phone rang.
Heart pounding, Ashley slipped from the warm cradle of his arms. Much more of this and she’d forget why she had felt it so important they spend their time talking and working out their problems instead of making love. “Saved by the bell,” she said breathlessly as Cal went to answer it.
He grinned in a way that let her know she wasn’t off the hook—yet. “Cal Hart,” he spoke into the receiver. His smile fading, he said with careful politeness, “Yes, she is. Just a moment, please.”
He handed the phone to her. “It’s Dr. Connelly from Hawaii.”
Ashley’s mentor in the fellowship program.
If ever they needed a reality check, this was it.
Aware her husband no longer looked as happy as he had when he’d walked in the door and found her in the kitchen—barefoot and, unbeknownst to him, pregnant!—Ashley took the receiver from Cal. Already tensing, her spine ramrod straight, she walked into the dining room to finish the conversation. When she returned, Cal was standing at the stove, stirring the vegetables Ashley had forgotten about. He had a stoic expression on his face that pretty much matched the abrupt change in Ashley’s mood. “So, what’s up?” he said, looking at the stove, rather than Ashley.
Ashley moved to take over the cooking duties once again. “Dr. Connelly wanted to know if I was going to take the Maui clinic job.”
“And…?” Cal’s fingers brushed hers as he handed over the spatula.
Ashley tried not to make too much of the implacable look in his eyes or his newly subdued mood. “I told her I hadn’t made up my mind yet, but I was leaning against it.”
Cal’s expression didn’t change. He regarded Ashley cautiously. “And her response was?”
“Unhappy,” Ashley admitted, wishing she and Cal had just let the phone ring and kept right on kissing.
Cal’s eyes narrowed. “Does that surprise you?”
Ashley shook her head, guilt flowing through her anew. “She pulled a lot of strings to get me nominated for the position.” In her mentor’s mind, in a lot of people’s minds, Ashley was indebted to her for the opportunity, and she should take it and make everyone who had helped train her proud.
Cal loosened his tie and the first two buttons of his starched gray-and-white striped shirt. “What changed your mind?”
Ashley watched him pull out a beer and twist off the cap. “You. This.” The prospect of—if everything went all right this time—having your baby. She swallowed hard around the growing ache in her throat. “I don’t think I want to be so far away from you again.”
Cal met her gaze, held it until the familiar mixture of sadness and resentment appeared. “I don’t want that, either,” he said, very softly.
The phone rang again. Cal sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to answer that.” But he did because it might be one of his patients or the hospital calling. He picked up the phone, listened and smiled broadly. “Hey, Carlotta. Sure you can talk to Ashley. She’s right here.” He handed the phone over.
While Cal sipped his beer and sorted through the mail, Ashley listened to Carlotta’s dilemma. “Of course. I’d be glad to help. No, it’s not a problem. I’ve got the morning free. The afternoon, too. Okay. I’ll see you at seven.” She hung up and turned to Cal. He was watching her, an expectant look on his ruggedly handsome face. “Carlotta and Mateo’s nanny, Beatrice, had a family emergency. She’s boarding a plane to Denver as we speak. They can’t find anyone to stay with the kids tomorrow. So I said I’d help out.”
“That was nice of you.” Cal wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her back, so she was cuddled against his body.
“After all she did for me in med school, I owe her. Besides,” Ashley shrugged, “how hard can it be?”