“So do you think we can do this? Let bygones be bygones?”

Reid studied Chloe for a long moment with those brilliant green eyes.

“I can give it a try,” he said when he finally did answer.

“I’d like that,” Chloe said softly.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’ll be especially quiet until I know you’re up.”

She nodded.

“Good night, then.”

“Get home safely,” she joked, making him smile a little again.

For another moment they remained standing there, not too far apart, just looking at each other.

As they did, Chloe couldn’t help recalling so many other times when they’d said good-night at the door much like that.

Only then he would have kissed her.

He would have kissed her in a way that would have filled her with a special kind of heat. That would have made her feel like his and his alone….

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Northbridge! I hope it’s beginning to feel as much like home to you as it is to me.

In this book Chloe Carmichael is making her own return—temporarily—to Northbridge, too. She isn’t so happy to be there at first and that’s actually how this book came into being. I love it there but I started to think about the good and the bad of a small town. About the people who stay and the people who don’t. About why someone might leave somewhere this warm and friendly and fun (because I’d love to find my own Northbridge and I can’t imagine leaving if I ever did). I started to think about the history, the memories we all carry around with us. About how sometimes there are secrets, too. And scars and old wounds that can make even the most ideal surroundings not so appealing. Then I threw Dr. Reid Walker into the mix—hot hunk with a hurt heart. Hmm…

Anyway, that’s where this story came from. And along with it, you’ll also learn a little more about the scandal that rocked Northbridge back in the sixties when Reverend Perry’s wife Celeste ran off with the bank robbers. I still don’t know all there is to know about that one but as it comes to me, I’ll pass it along to you.

In the meantime, I wish you a pleasant visit to my little town, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you enjoy it there as much as I do.

Happy reading!

Victoria

Back in the Bachelor’s Arms
Victoria Pade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

VICTORIA PADE

is a native of Colorado, where she continues to live and work. Her passion—besides writing—is chocolate, which she indulges in frequently and in every form. She loves romance novels and romantic movies—the more lighthearted, the better—but she likes a good, juicy mystery now and then, too.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

“I’ll see one more patient and then that’s it for me for the next week—I’m on vacation as of midnight. So what’s up?” Dr. Reid Walker asked the emergency room nurse he was working with.

“We only have one patient left, period,” the nurse responded. “Second week of October, first snowstorm of the season, icy roads—she slid into a telephone pole just outside of town. She says she’s fine but the air bag deployed and you know police policy around here—when the air bag inflates, they bring ’em into the E.R. to be checked out no matter what the vehicle occupant says. Her name is Chloe Carmichael.”

Reid stopped short at that. “Say the name again.”

“Chloe Carmichael,” the nurse repeated. Then, without noticing the effect that particular name was having on Reid, she said, “I’ll release our flu case, hopefully you can wrap up the car accident, and we’re clear. Next shift will be in any minute. They can handle anything that comes in after this, and we’re both outta here.”

Reid didn’t respond as the nurse left him. He also didn’t move. Instead he stayed where he was, just outside the counter that surrounded the area that staff referred to as the fishbowl, where medical personnel convened to talk, pick up charts, get supplies and do paperwork.

The emergency room of the only medical facility in the small town of Northbridge, Montana, had just four rooms branching out from the fishbowl. Two of them were dark and unoccupied. Reid had just left the third after informing a girl from Northbridge College that she could relax, she wasn’t pregnant and had only a case of influenza. Which left the fourth room the only possibility for the location of his next patient.

Chloe Carmichael.

Sunday night, 11:45. It was a hell of an end to the weekend. A hell of a beginning to his vacation.

Still, Reid didn’t budge. He glanced across the fishbowl to Room 4.

The lights there were on. The wall facing the fishbowl was glass above the cupboards where gowns and necessary equipment were stored in each of the triage rooms. The privacy curtain wasn’t completely pulled around the bed and there, in the small gap left, he could partially see the patient.

But partially was enough.

She was sitting up in the bed, dressed in a hospital gown, appearing none-the-worse-for-wear given that she’d just been in an automobile accident. Looking better, in fact, than the last time Reid had seen her.

Fourteen years ago.

She’d been seventeen.

He’d been eighteen.

It seemed like yesterday.

Chloe Carmichael.

Her family had moved to Northbridge when she was in elementary school. They’d lived a few doors down from the house Reid’s family owned, the house where his mother still resided. The Carmichaels had lived there until fourteen years ago when they’d left town abruptly. They’d rented the house out ever since. A few months ago it had gone up for sale, and Reid and his brother Luke had put in an offer on it. Rental property in a college town was a good investment. Even if it was still connected to Chloe Carmichael.

Reid and Luke were about to close on the sale of the house she’d inherited from her parents. But Reid had been told that the Realtor would be acting as Chloe Carmichael’s proxy because she didn’t want to return to Northbridge.

So what was she doing here?

“Oh, good, you haven’t gone in to see the other patient yet.”

The nurse’s voice caught him by surprise. Reid had been so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t been aware that she’d rejoined him.

“You were going to write a script for birth control pills so our college girl doesn’t have any more pregnancy scares,” the nurse reminded him.

Reid finally glanced back at the nurse. “Birth control pills. Right. Good invention.”

“I think so,” the nurse agreed in a puzzled tone of voice.

Reid didn’t explain himself. He merely filled out and signed the prescription and handed the pad back to the nurse.

But even once she’d left him alone again he remained where he was, returning to his study of the room he was supposed to be going to.

The room where Chloe Carmichael awaited him.

She still had that wavy, licorice-black hair. Only as far as he could tell from his limited view, it was shorter now, ending just below her shoulders rather than falling to the middle of her back.

She still had the most flawless porcelain skin he’d ever seen—he could tell that even through the scant gap in the curtain. The softest, smoothest skin he’d ever touched.

She still had the straightest nose. The most luscious pink lips. And despite the fact that he couldn’t see them because she was looking down at the bed, he had no doubt she also still had the biggest, bluest eyes….

No, those fourteen years hadn’t harmed her any. They’d only made better what he’d thought was perfect before.

Damn it.

And just like that Reid flashed back to one of the last times he’d seen Chloe Carmichael—the beginning of the end for them….

It had been a night in early summer, in the front yard of that house that would be his and his brother’s very soon. The house he and his mother and the town minister had been thrown out of. The house he’d been banned from. The house Chloe Carmichael had had to sneak out of to talk to him.

The memory was so vivid. The memory of cupping the soft skin of her beautiful face between his hands. Of kissing warm lips and tasting the salt of the tears that had brimmed from those eyes.

“I don’t care what they say, this isn’t the end of us. It’s only the beginning. I’ll make sure of it,” he’d told her that night.

Big words. A lot of bravado. All for nothing.

Nothing but misery.

“What are you doing?” the nurse’s voice intruded again. “I thought you wanted to get this over with so we could go home. But here you are. Are your feet glued to the floor or what?”

Reid didn’t respond as the nurse entered the center of the fishbowl to do the paperwork that went with the release of the college girl.

He merely continued staring across the distance at the patient he was supposed to see. The patient who wasn’t just another patient.

The patient who was Chloe Carmichael.

And it astounded him suddenly that that was all it took—her name, a glimpse of her, knowing he was about to come face-to-face with her again—to make old feelings spring to the surface.

Old, ugly feelings.

Red-hot anger.

And plenty of it.

Even after all these years…

“Dr. Walker will be in to see you soon….”

The nurse’s words rang in Chloe Carmichael’s ears as she nervously plucked the hospital bedcovers into pyramids.

Dr. Walker…

She wanted to hope that the Dr. Walker who was to examine her was from a different Walker family than the one she’d known growing up. The Walker family who had been her neighbors. Her friends. One of them more than just her friend.

But what were the odds that the Dr. Walker she was slated to see was a different Walker than the Walkers she’d known?

Not great, she thought.

At least the Walker family she was familiar with had been a big one. Five kids—Reid, Luke, Ad, Ben and Cassie. Cassie—the one girl.

Maybe I’ll luck out and Dr. Walker is Cassie Walker—a woman doctor. All the better…

But while Chloe wouldn’t be thrilled with being examined by Luke, Ad or Ben if one of them was the Walker who had become a doctor, she just hoped it wasn’t Reid.

Please don’t let it be Reid…

It was bad enough to be back in Northbridge, let alone in the emergency room there. But to be waiting for a doctor who might be Reid?

Just please, please, don’t let it be Reid…

Northbridge and Reid.

The place she was afraid she could never come to again without feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

And the man who had grown from the boy she’d had to hurt.

Northbridge and Reid Walker and shame and embarrassment and pain and remorse—no, not a chapter in her life she wanted to revisit.

And she hadn’t thought she would have to.

When her parents had been killed in a boating accident eleven months earlier, Chloe had inherited the house they’d all lived in in Northbridge. The house her parents had employed a Realtor to rent out since they’d all hurriedly left the small town.

But Chloe hadn’t wanted any part of anything connected to Northbridge or her past and so, after considering the financial aspects of selling the place, she’d finally decided to do it.

The same Realtor who had handled the house as a rental property had put the place up for sale, assuring Chloe that selling the old house could be accomplished without Chloe’s personal appearance in town. Which had been the plan.

But once the Realtor had buyers, she’d called.

There was some furniture, some clothes, some Carmichael belongings packed in boxes in the attic. Did Chloe want it all sent to her?

Chloe had considered it. She’d even looked into the cost of having it brought—sight unseen—to Arizona. But the cost was substantial and since she was unsure what she would want to keep and what she would merely throw away, it seemed unwise to bring everything to Tucson only to toss it out there. She needed to go through the things herself before paying to have anything shipped to her.

So she’d resigned herself to making this trip. She’d intended to slip into Northbridge, do what needed to be done at the house and slip out again, not attending the closing. No more than a few people would ever know she had been back where the events of fourteen years ago had been the talk of the town.

But now here she was, brought in by a police officer, her rental car in need of towing after being smashed into a pole. That was a commotion that would never go unnoticed in Northbridge. That was a story that would be told. And repeated. And repeated. Along with the fact that Chloe Carmichael had been behind the wheel.

That was certainly not slipping quietly in and out of Northbridge’s back door.

Best-laid plans…

The curtain that was pulled most of the way around the bed opened just then and Chloe’s eyes shot from the pyramided covers to the person who had thrown it wide.

She didn’t need to read his hospital badge to know who he was, even though he’d changed considerably since she’d last seen him. She would have recognized those staggeringly handsome features anywhere. After all, the younger version of them had materialized in her mind’s eye more times than she could count in the last fourteen years.

“Reid,” she whispered more to herself than in greeting.

He took it as a greeting, though, and responded in kind, “Chloe.”

Well, maybe in kind wasn’t exactly accurate. There was nothing kind in that single utterance of her name. Clearly Reid Walker wasn’t any happier to see her than she was to see him. In fact, if the grim expression on his face and the cutting tone of his voice were any indication, he was even more unhappy than she was. More than unhappy, actually. He seemed ticked off, disgusted, put out and all-round disgruntled.

Probably no more than she should have expected.

Chloe took a deep breath and tried to make the best of a bad situation. “It is you. The nurse said Dr. Walker would be in and I wondered if maybe Cassie or one of your brothers had ended up going to medical school. Or if it was you. Apparently it was you…”

“Apparently.”

Snide. Sarcastic. Downright nasty.

This was not going to be nice.

His gaze dropped to the chart he held in his hands but Chloe had the sense that more than studying whatever was written on it, he just couldn’t stand to look at her.

“Single?” he said after a moment, obviously reading what she’d marked on the papers she’d filled out. “Is there anybody you want notified of the accident? I know your parents are gone—”

“I appreciated the flowers and sympathy card your mom sent. I wondered how she knew—”

“The newspaper ran a small article,” he explained curtly, still looking only at her chart and wasting no time going back to what he’d been saying. “Is there anyone else you want notified of the accident or asked to come here to be with you? Friends? Other family? A boyfriend or fiancé?”

Was he being persistent about that as a matter of course or was he trying to find out if she was unattached?

Given his attitude, Chloe thought it must be a matter of course.

“No, there’s no boyfriend or fiancé or anyone else who I want called.”

He didn’t so much as nod to acknowledge her answer. He merely shot her another question. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

For a split second she thought he was talking about what had happened fourteen years ago. But of course that wasn’t the case and she realized it a little belatedly. She was in an emergency room. He was her doctor.

“The weather was fine when I left the Billings airport,” she began to explain. “But about halfway here it started to snow. Hard. The roads iced up and even though I was driving at a snail’s pace, the rental car spun out and I hit a telephone pole. The engine died. The doors wouldn’t open. The air bag was in my face. I couldn’t do anything but use my cell phone to dial 911 for help.”

“Any loss of consciousness?”

“No. But the cop who finally got there had to pry one of the doors open to get me out. Once I was out, it didn’t seem like any bones were broken or anything, but he insisted that he bring me here anyway.”

Was she rambling? She was afraid she was. But she was so unnerved both by the accident and by seeing Reid again unexpectedly that she sort of didn’t know which end was up.

“Are you having any pain?” he demanded, deigning to look at her again but with such scorn she wished he hadn’t.

“No, not really. It kind of shook me up but like I said, I’m not hurt. The air bag took most of the impact. There are a couple of scrapes on my arms and a bruise on my knee, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

“I’ll still need to check you over.”

He sounded as if he’d rather walk barefoot through toxic waste—she wasn’t giving him high marks for bedside manner.

Not that Chloe was any more thrilled with the prospect of Reid Walker—of all people—examining her…

“There isn’t another doctor?” she ventured.

“Molly, you want to come in here?” he hollered over his shoulder rather than answering Chloe’s question.

The nurse she’d seen before joined them.

“Is the next shift in yet?” he demanded.

“No,” the nurse answered. “And they may be a while. This storm took everybody off guard—J.T. just called and his car won’t start so he’s walking in. I’d just hung up from talking to him when Shauna called to say her husband had to go out to deal with a frozen water main and she’s having to find someone to come stay with the kids before she can leave home.”

Reid stabbed Chloe with another glance. “And if you want to wait for them you should know that you won’t be seeing a doctor. Shauna is a nurse and J.T. is a nurse-practitioner—they do our overnights and call for help if something too serious for them to handle comes in. Or I can do the exam but have Molly stay in the room, if that makes you more comfortable. Your choice.”

Nothing in the world could make Chloe more comfortable at that moment. All she wanted was to get this over with and slink away from the entire situation. And waiting for another shift to come in in a snowstorm didn’t seem like the fastest route to that.

“What will you have to do?” she asked before she committed to anything.

“I’ll check for head, neck and spinal cord injuries. Check your extremities—” He paused to address the nurse once more. “Did you look for seat belt signs?”

“I did. There weren’t any,” the nurse responded.

“Seat belt signs?” Chloe inquired.

“If there’s been a lot of force against the restraint of the seat belt and there’s bruising, that can be an indication of internal injury,” he said as if any idiot should know that.

“The seat belt unsnapped itself before the accident ever happened. I’d had to take it off. I guess it was lucky the air bag came up when it did.”

“Then we don’t need to worry about injury from the seat belt, do we?”

More sarcasm before the unpleasant physician continued outlining the exam he would need to perform on her.

“I’ll listen to your abdomen with the stethoscope, apply some pressure to see if that causes you pain you might not otherwise be aware of, listen to your heart and lungs. I can do everything on the outside of the gown and I’ll be as hands-off as possible. Believe me, I’ll be as hands-off as possible.”

Because he didn’t want to touch her.

And she didn’t want him to touch her.

Did she?

Of course she didn’t.

So why was it so insulting that he seemed to abhor the idea?

It just was, that’s all. But Chloe tamped down on that to deal with what she was being forced to deal with. “And it won’t take long?” she asked.

“Not one split second longer than it has to.”

So not only didn’t he want to touch her, he didn’t want anything between them prolonged either—that was the message he was relaying.

“Okay,” Chloe conceded reluctantly.

“Shall I go or stay?” the confused-sounding nurse asked then.

“Stay!” both Chloe and Reid said at the same time.

Then Reid added, “Definitely stay.”

As he went to the nearby sink and washed his hands the nurse stepped to the side of the bed, smiling reassuringly but still appearing as if she didn’t understand what was going on.

But then she’d already told Chloe that she was new in town. Which meant that she likely didn’t know that once upon a time Chloe and Reid had been teenagers madly in love with each other.

Until Chloe had turned up pregnant.

And all hell had broken loose.

Chapter Two

Monday morning came to life with a clear blue sky full of sunshine falling on more than two feet of pristine white snow. And Reid was there to see it all because he was awake and out of bed and watching the day break as he stood at the picture window in the living room of the house he and Luke owned together and shared. Directly across the street from the Carmichael house they were about to buy.

But it wasn’t the sunrise or the snow that was on Reid’s mind at that early hour. It was Chloe Carmichael and himself and the past and the present and what a mess everything seemed to have turned into again in the blink of an eye.

It was also the fact that he knew he’d earned a swift kick in the ass for his behavior the night before.

Fourteen years ago Chloe Carmichael, together with her parents, had taught him a harsh lesson in frustration and helplessness.

But fourteen years was a long time. And in the early hours of the morning, once his unreasonable anger had subsided somewhat, he’d decided he wasn’t proud of the way he’d acted the previous evening. And he definitely wasn’t proud of the way he’d treated Chloe professionally.

In fact, while behaving like a scorned adolescent was dumb, not doing what he should have as a doctor was inexcusable.

Okay, so he didn’t think that he’d missed anything during the exam or that Chloe actually had been more hurt than she’d seemed to be. He’d seen enough accident victims to recognize the difference between severe injuries and minor ones like the scrapes on her arms and the bruise on her leg.

But still, he’d gone about the examination at the same inept level he’d gone about his very first patient exam in medical school—he’d been as reluctant to actually put his hands on her as some rookie.

It was just that touching Chloe even slightly had shot him back to a time when touching her, kissing her, holding her, had been almost the only things he’d ever thought about. It hadn’t been something he could do professionally—medically—without remembering that. Without reliving it.

Without wanting even now to do more of it. In a private setting. And in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with his job.

Inexcusable, unacceptable, unwarranted and inappropriate.

And it sure as hell wasn’t the kind of physician he was. Any more than being a surly SOB was the kind of man he was.

Which led him to the conclusion that this had to be fixed.

Not that he was looking to be overly friendly toward Chloe Carmichael at this juncture. Or to rekindle anything. He’d done his damnedest to do the right thing fourteen years ago and it had blown up in his face; he didn’t want to get into anything with her again now.

But as long as she was in Northbridge, as long as he was in the situation he’d discovered when he’d arrived home last night, he’d rather have a temporary coexistence with Chloe that was amicable. And in order for it to be amicable, he knew he had to rise above his old wounds and make the best of things as they were right now.

“Hey. What’re you doing up so early?”

Reid’s brother surprised him from behind and Reid turned to find Luke obviously just out of bed, padding in on bare feet from the bedrooms down the hall.

“You won’t believe it when I tell you,” Reid responded, leaning one shoulder against the cold glass.

“The snow? It was falling before I went to sleep,” Luke said with a nod towards the big plate glass window that was bracing Reid’s weight.

“Not the snow. What the snow brought in with it.”

“Yeah? What did the snow bring in with it?” Luke asked.

“Chloe Carmichael,” Reid said as if he were dropping a bomb.

Bomb enough to wake up Luke. His eyes opened wide beneath arched brows and for a moment he was gape-jawed before he said, “Chloe Carmichael? She’s here? In Northbridge?”

Reid inclined his head at the window, too. “Not only in Northbridge. She’s across the street. Apparently staying at the house.”

Luke grimaced and let out an expletive as he joined Reid to look out at their soon-to-be rental property.

If Luke had been expecting to see signs of Chloe he was disappointed. There weren’t any to see. Which prompted him to say, “How do you know?”

“She ended up in my emergency room at midnight after hitting a telephone pole.”

“Was she hurt?”

“No,” Reid said. “Scrapes and bruises, but that’s it. At least I hope that’s it. I didn’t do as thorough an exam as I probably should have.”

“I need coffee,” Luke said as if he were suddenly desperate for the stuff and headed for the kitchen that was through an archway to the rear of the living room.

Reid finally gave up the spot he’d maintained at the window for nearly an hour and followed his brother, refilling his own mug once Luke had poured his. Then they both sat on vinyl chairs at the chrome and Formica kitchen table that had been in their mother’s basement for decades before they’d confiscated it for use in their own place.

“You’re not going to get sued for malpractice, are you?” Luke asked then.

“I’m reasonably sure she was okay.”

“And she’s at the house?”

“Surprise!”

“I guess. Did you tell her we were working on it?”

Betty, the Realtor, had given them the okay and the key. Betty had explained to them that Chloe had made it clear she didn’t want to be bothered with anything to do with the house or the sale. She’d given Betty written permission to hire any workmen of Betty’s choosing to do the necessary repairs and replacements to facilitate the process.

Betty had given Reid and Luke the option of doing the work themselves so that it was done to their specifications. She’d said that she was killing two birds with one stone—Chloe would have less expense because Reid and Luke would not charge for labor, and Reid and Luke would have things done the way they wanted, and in time for their renters to move right in after the closing.

Betty had warned them that they could be taking a risk, that if the sale didn’t go through for some reason their time could be wasted. But since no one doubted that the deal would close, Reid and Luke had decided to take that risk.

“I didn’t say anything about the house,” Reid told his brother. “I wasn’t really…nice.”

Luke frowned. “How not-nice were you? Like not-nice enough that Chloe might pull out of the deal?”

“She wants to sell. I doubt she’ll nix it just because I was unfriendly.” Unfriendly in the extreme—but Reid didn’t see any reason to worry his brother by elaborating. “Besides, we have a contract and the downpayment is in escrow—she can’t back out just because I was a little…disagreeable.”

“Not nice, unfriendly and disagreeable,” Luke said as if Reid was alarming him anyway.

“Let’s just say that I wasn’t particularly neighborly,” Reid amended. “For instance, I probably should have asked where she was staying and offered to drive her since her car was out of commission from the accident, but—”

“You didn’t.”

“No. Instead, Molly stepped in and offered her a lift, and then it was like some kind of caravan because there we were, the only two cars on the road, me driving right behind them until we got here. Where I pulled into our driveway and Molly let Chloe off across the street—”

“So that’s how you know she’s over there.”

“Right. We ended up in some kind of synchronized arrival, walked up to the front doors at the same time, opened them, looked over at each other and then went in and closed the doors as if we didn’t even know each other. Molly must have thought I was crazy and it’s a good thing she didn’t have to go out of her way to get here or I would have felt bad about her driving in the snow when it ended up that I could easily have brought Chloe with me.”

“But Molly’s been in town only a few months. She doesn’t know anything about you and Chloe Carmichael.”

“She knew something was up. She couldn’t have missed it at the hospital.”

Luke nodded. “Why is Chloe here? Betty said she was firm about not wanting to come in for the closing and even that isn’t until a week from today.”

“I don’t know why she’s here. I stuck strictly to the medical stuff.”

“You didn’t ask why she was here and you didn’t even know she planned to stay at the house until you saw her go in?”

“Yeah, I know, those were probably things I should have gotten into. But I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood.” Plus none of it had occurred to him until he’d seen her go into the house across the street because at the hospital he’d been so wrapped up in old resentments and anger that he hadn’t been able to think about anything except what touching her had done to him….

“How’s she look?” Luke asked then as if he’d read Reid’s mind.

“Freaking fantastic,” Reid blurted out before he even realized he was going to admit it.

It made Luke laugh but only barely before he caught himself. “What did you expect if you ever saw her again? That she would’ve grown warts?”

“Warts are no more than she deserved,” Reid muttered, hating that the simple question about how Chloe looked put her image right back into his head again after he’d fought numerous times through the night to get it out.

Damn her, anyway, for not having warts. For looking even better in full view than she had through the gap in the privacy curtain. For that gleaming black hair that waved around her alabaster skin like a picture frame. For those take-a-second-glance features that made her cute and striking and amazingly beautiful depending on her expression. For those straight white teeth and that smile—that smile that had shown itself only nervously last night—that was still bright enough to light a dark room. For those eyes that were the color of freshly washed summer blueberries. For that tight, compact little body on that barely five-foot-two-inch frame and those smallish breasts that had been the first ones he’d ever felt….

Just damn her, anyway, for haunting him!

“Okay, so she looks good,” Luke said then. “Was she as unfriendly to you as you were to her?”

“No. I was the only jerk in the room. She was fine. Not thrilled with me being her doctor, but what else can you expect?”

“So she was nice enough and you were still a jerk?”

“Yep.”

Luke shrugged. “Well, she does have some of that coming. I just wish it had come after the closing instead of before we get there. She didn’t give you any idea why she’s here?”

“I don’t think it’s for old times’ sake,” Reid snapped.

“What do we do now? Call Betty, have her go over and talk to Chloe? Smooth whatever feathers you might have ruffled?”

Reid already knew what he had to do. As a doctor and as a man. So he was prepared for that question and shook his head.

“I’ll wait for a decent hour and then I’m going to have to go myself. I need to make sure she’s still okay from the accident. I’ll apologize for not having my party face on last night, and maybe that’ll smooth any ruffled feathers.”

Luke didn’t jump at that solution. Instead his concerns now were obviously for Reid.

“Can you do that? Are you sure you want to?”

“I think I have to,” Reid admitted quietly. “For the sake of the sale, the renters and myself. I didn’t like me much last night.”

Luke nodded as if he understood. “It couldn’t have been easy for you to see her again. I know you had doubts about whether or not you wanted to live across the street from the Carmichaels’ old place fourteen months ago, and more doubts now about buying their old place. I know that I had to twist your arm to even get you in that door again when it came on the market.”

“No, it wasn’t easy to see Chloe again. Especially when I didn’t expect it and wasn’t prepared,” Reid acknowledged at least that much of what his brother had said. “But she’s here, we’re all tied up with the house and the sale and her as a result, and I’ll do what I have to. Besides, like I said, I’d better make sure she’s okay health-wise and that I didn’t miss something in the exam last night.”

“You’re sure? I mean, I know I took off work last week to play carpenter but I might be able to arrange something for this week, too, if you just can’t face her.”

Reid shook his head. “Last week was vacation-with-pay. If you took off this week, too, you’d have to do it on your own dime and I know you can’t afford that. Especially now, with this new mortgage hanging over our heads. Plus there’s my substitute coming in from Billings who would have to be compensated for his time and trouble and the trip here even if I have him turn around and go back. And I’m really not so spineless that I can’t face an old girlfriend.”

“I never said you were spineless. I don’t know if I could be anything but a bastard to Chloe Carmichael if I were in your shoes. And she was more than just an old girlfriend to you.”

“Still, I’ll do what needs to be done to get to the closing on the house. I’ll make sure I’m not in line for a malpractice suit, and then hopefully whatever Chloe came to Northbridge for won’t keep her here long. With any luck she’ll get the hell out of town before we know it, and I won’t ever have to see her again for the rest of my life—that’s the incentive.”

Luke didn’t seem convinced. “And you don’t have any feelings for her?”

“Only bad ones,” Reid said without hesitation.

And he counted as bad feelings the stirring he’d felt when he’d touched her and the fact that the revised mental picture of her had somehow etched itself indelibly on his brain.

Because in no way were they things he wanted to experience.

Chloe was not operating at top speed Monday morning. Car accident. Encountering Reid Walker. Having even a cursory physical exam performed by him. Finding when the nurse drove her home that Reid lived directly across the street. Having to clean the upstairs bathroom before she could use it. Needing to turn the mattress on the double bed in her room before covering it with two mattress pads, clean sheets, blanket and pillows she’d brought with her in order to be comfortable using things that had been the domain of college students for many years. And then having images of Reid climbing into that bed with her. All together it hadn’t made for a restful night’s sleep. Or for a relaxing lounge in bed when she’d awakened.

No, she was up by 7:20 a.m. to discover that her entire body was very stiff—no doubt a side effect of the accident.

The stiffness eased when she moved around though. And she did that because it had been so late when she’d arrived that she hadn’t explored all that was going on in the house. And she wanted to.

The living room was nearly finished being painted. There was a roll of new carpeting against a wall, waiting to be laid. Drapes had disappeared. The furniture her parents had left so the place could be considered furnished was gone. And only a single pole lamp with a bare bulb stood in one corner to provide some light after dark.

Luckily the new locks were merely near the front door and hadn’t yet been installed or she wouldn’t have been able to get in.

The first-floor bathroom had a new sink and toilet installed and had also been painted, as had the two bedrooms upstairs, where the carpeting had been removed and the hardwood floors refinished.

The kitchen was apparently next—and last—on the agenda once the living room was completed because there were tarps, rolls of masking tape and cans of paint waiting. Boxes of ceramic tile were also stacked in the corner to replace the linoleum and the backsplash, and the refrigerator was stocked with nothing but beer and soda.

And everywhere there were remnants of construction and cleanup that had apparently been left for the end with foam coffee cups, soda cans and beer bottles set here and there and forgotten.

Like finding Reid Walker to be her emergency room doctor, the house was not what Chloe had expected, and once she knew what was underway, she called her Realtor.

Betty.

Of course Betty was stunned to learn that Chloe had come into town. Why wouldn’t she be when Chloe had been adamant about not wanting any involvement in what was going on here?

“I was surprised to find the extent of the work already done and in progress on the house, though,” Chloe told the other women after explaining why she’d decided to see what was in the attic before paying to have it all shipped to Arizona.

“I’ve been e-mailing you step by step and you’ve authorized the cost of the materials,” Betty said.

“I guess I just wasn’t keeping track.” Probably because she’d wanted to dispense of anything that brought Northbridge to mind as quickly as possible, paying as little attention to it as she could manage, and then forgetting about it. “But I know I told you the maximum I was willing to spend on this and after seeing the extent of the work I’m a little worried that you aren’t staying within my budget.”

“All the work was necessary—as I told you when we spoke before, years of renters had taken a toll on the place. But we’ll actually come in under your budget because with Luke and Reid doing the work there aren’t any labor charges.”

“Luke and Reid are doing the work? You didn’t tell me that!”

“I did. I’ve kept copies of all my e-mails to you and that was one of the first. You didn’t answer it, but I thought that since you’d left it to me to choose whatever handymen or workmen were required, you didn’t care and didn’t feel the need to respond.”

Betty went on to explain the advantages of the arrangement to all parties but Chloe only heard it peripherally. Her mind was stalled on one thing: Reid Walker was doing the work on the house.

It was only when Betty began to talk about how Reid had taken vacation time this week to finish the job that Chloe tuned in again.

“He’ll be here? All week? While I’m here?” she demanded of the Realtor.

Harshly, apparently, because Betty stopped short and there was only silence on the other end of the line for a long moment.

And when Betty spoke again her tone was cool and clipped. “Yes, Reid is scheduled to be there all week. Which I would have been happy to tell you had you let me know you were coming into town and intended to stay at the house. But you were very clear about how much you didn’t want to be anywhere near here.”

That was true. And that had been her intention. And because she’d wanted to simply slip into town without drawing any attention to herself she hadn’t informed her Realtor.

“Can that be changed?” Chloe asked then. “Reid working on the house this week? Can I say no?”

“Well, of course that would be your prerogative but it would hardly be fair to—”

The doorbell rang just then.

Chloe wanted to scream with frustration. But she knew this was all her fault. Her own fault for not having paid close attention to Betty’s e-mails. For not having let the Realtor know she was coming to Northbridge.

And screaming wouldn’t accomplish anything and neither was this phone call.

“Someone is at the door. I’ll just deal with this,” Chloe said, cutting off the guilt-trip the woman was laying on her, and hanging up so she could move to the door.

Chloe hadn’t showered yet. She hadn’t done anything with her hair since getting up, so the ponytail she’d put it in before going to bed was lopsided and spilling strands of hair. She was wearing what she’d slept in—a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt that weren’t revealing in the slightest, but that also weren’t what she wanted to be wearing to answer the door.

On the second ring of the bell, however, she realized there was nothing she could do about her appearance and answered it anyway.

To find Reid, who was standing on the front porch holding two steaming cups of coffee.

He held one of them aloft and said, “Truce?”

“Are we at war?” Chloe asked, trying not to notice how good he looked standing there in a pair of ancient jeans and a plain white crew-necked T-shirt under a jean jacket.

There was more form to him dressed in those clothes than had been in evidence in his hospital scrubs the night before and she couldn’t help noticing that his shoulders were broader and more muscular than they had been years ago. His biceps seemed to fill his jacket sleeves to capacity.

His chest was expansive beneath the T-shirt, narrowing to a waist and hips that were taut and toned, easing into thighs massive enough not to leave any spare room in those jeans.

Plus, unless she was mistaken, he was a couple of inches taller than the six feet he’d sported at eighteen. All of which made him very imposing, coffee-truce in hand or no coffee-truce.

“I don’t want to be at war, no,” he was saying in answer to her question as she forced her attention away from cataloguing the attributes of the man’s body that were vastly improved over that of the boy’s. “But I think I sort of mounted the first attack last night, so I wouldn’t blame you if you’re arming yourself for the second.”

Chloe considered how to handle this. He might have had the advantage the night before but it was on her side now. She could take it and give him a taste of his own medicine, or she could choose the high ground.

But being in Northbridge, in the same house, seeing him again, was bad enough. Fighting with him would only make it worse. So she decided on the high ground.

“I’ll take the coffee,” she said, reaching for the cup.

“Can we talk?” he asked as she took her first sip.

A slight frown beetled his brow but this time she didn’t think for even a moment that he was referring to talking about what had happened fourteen years ago. Instead she was reasonably certain the house and what was going on with it was more what he had in mind.

Chloe stepped out of the way of the door as an invitation. “Looks like we’d better,” she said, pointedly glancing at the disarray of the living room that the front door opened into.

Reid accepted the invitation, closing the door behind himself. When he had, he nodded in the same direction. “Luke and I have been working on the place.”

“So I understand. I just got off the phone with Betty. She tells me you plan to work here all week.”

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

“And since you saw me get dropped off here last night you thought maybe you should be a little nicer to me so I’d agree to let you go through with it.”

“Actually, no,” he said very matter-of-factly. “When I saw Molly drop you off here last night I went in and kicked the couch and cussed for a while. It wasn’t until after that that I decided—and not because of the remodel plan, but for other reasons—that I needed to come over this morning and start again. So, let me do that by backing up and asking if you’re okay. Physically.”

“I’m fine.”

“Seriously? Because I can’t say that was the best exam I’ve ever done and by now the doc from Billings who’s filling in for me this week should be at the hospital. He could do a recheck. I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with it.”

“Seriously, I’m fine. I was stiff when I got out of bed, but even that’s better.”

“No bruises that appeared overnight? No abdominal pain? No nausea? No headache or neckache? No difficulty breathing when you went to bed or going up or down the stairs? No—”

“No nothing. I’m fine and I don’t need the Billings doctor to confirm that. I was probably not even going ten miles an hour when I hit that pole. If the cop hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have gone in to a hospital at all.”

Reid nodded slowly, as if he wanted to believe her reassurance but was still skeptical.

Then he said, “If you’re absolutely sure you’re all right, then it’s a relief. I’m ordinarily not that lousy a doctor.”

“You were pretty lousy,” Chloe couldn’t resist confirming just because it was obviously bothering him and she thought she’d earned at least that much retribution for his bad attitude the previous evening.

“And,” he continued, “I should have asked where you were staying, I should have offered you a ride to wherever you needed to go. I was a jerk.”

“Yes, you were.”

“But this isn’t easy for me. You have to know that.”

“It isn’t easy for me, either,” she countered quietly, somberly.

That seemed to bring about a stalemate and silence reigned for longer than Chloe was comfortable with.

When she got too uncomfortable, she ended it.

“So, you’re really needing to work here this week,” she said to get back on the track they were both better able to deal with.

“I’m afraid I do. Northbridge has some support medical staff, but I’m the only doctor in town. I don’t get a lot of vacations and when I do take one, it’s complicated and really tough to back out on after everything has been set into motion. And our renters really need to get in as soon as it’s humanly possible, and we’ve promised that the minute we close the place it will be ready for them. I know it’s inconvenient for you, but Betty didn’t say anything about you coming—”

“Betty didn’t know.”

“Well, we’re in a bind.”

Guess you shouldn’t have been so contrary to me…

It was on the tip of Chloe’s tongue but she didn’t say it. After all, his scorn of the night before wasn’t altogether uncalled for. And if accommodating the work he needed to get done on the house would put that scorn and contempt in check so she didn’t have to deal with it while she was in Northbridge, she knew it was for the best.

“It looks like you’d be mainly working downstairs,” she said with a question in her tone.

“I would be.”

“I suppose I should have let Betty know I’d decided to do it, but I came to go through the stuff in the attic. I need to know what should be moved and what can just be thrown out. But with you down here and me up there, there would be a whole floor between us so maybe we wouldn’t get in each other’s way.”

“We probably wouldn’t.”

“I guess it might be okay,” she finally concluded, sounding hesitant, but less hesitant than she felt.

“I appreciate that,” he said. Although getting what he wanted seemed to be double-edged.

Then he added, “If you are feeling all right, I’ll leave and give you a little breathing room to get your day started. There are some supplies I need to pick up at the hardware store and I won’t be losing much time if I come back in a couple of hours.”

“That would be good,” Chloe said.

“Okay then.”

Reid hadn’t moved more than a few steps from the door and he retraced those steps to open it again.

But before he went outside, he hesitated and glanced back at her from over one big, broad shoulder. “You’re sure you don’t have any signs of physical problems from the accident?”

“Positive.”

He nodded but his gaze remained on her anyway for another moment before he actually did go out and close the door behind him.

Leaving Chloe with the image of his face branded on her brain as if it were the first time she’d ever seen him.

The image of a bone structure that fourteen years had honed to look as if it had been carved out of Italian marble, complete with high cheekbones that dropped to hollow cheeks, which gave him a rugged, outdoorsy appearance. A rugged, outdoorsy appearance enhanced by a jaw that was sharply defined and his mink-colored hair that was cut very short and left bristly all over.

The image of a straight, square forehead, and an aquiline nose that was only slightly long and added to the manly appeal of a face that was undeniably one of the most handsome she’d ever seen. The image of lips that were thin enough to be masculine and still full enough to be sensual. Of great eyes that were vibrant green tinged with only a hint of blue around the edges.

Deep, penetrating, intelligent eyes that had once been warm, caring and sensitive rather than cold, remote, guarded and wary as they had been last night and again this morning even in the midst of making peace.

No, seeing Reid, being in the same house with him, putting up a good front, wasn’t going to be easy.

But even more difficult for her, Chloe thought, was resisting the urge to do something—anything—to make those eyes look at her the way they had so long ago, rather than the way they looked at her now.

Chapter Three

Chloe wasn’t sure exactly what time Reid returned that afternoon. When he wasn’t there by one-thirty she left a note propped against the outside of the front door telling him to just come in without ringing the bell because she might be on the phone. Then she went upstairs to her bedroom and called the rental car company where she’d encountered only problems.

But sometime during the two hours she was on the phone and mostly waiting, she heard water run downstairs and realized that Reid actually had come back.

And knowing that gave her conflicting emotions.

On the one hand it made her tense.

On the other hand, she became aware of a tiny flicker of excitement that she tried to expunge by concentrating on the difficulties she was having on the telephone.

But despite the fact that the difficulties were many and varied, they didn’t dim that flicker that was still alive at four o’clock when she finally got off the phone.

Four o’clock was a late start on the attic and the thought of Reid being nearby made her consider not doing any work at all today.

Maybe she should just go downstairs to say hello, she thought.

And get another glimpse of him.

It was tempting. It could even be her contribution to the truce, she told herself.

But she knew she was only making excuses to see him and that that was not an inclination she should give in to. So, in the end, she decided that a late start was better than no start and went to the attic.

What she found there was hardly what she expected. She hadn’t realized that her parents had accumulated—and left—quite that much stuff. Boxes upon boxes upon boxes were filled to the spilling point. There were two old trunks that were equally as packed, and an ancient bureau, a matching armoire and an aged wooden icebox that were all crammed full, too.

Plus the entire attic was covered in cobwebs and dust that made Chloe sneeze and warned her that the first thing she needed to do was clean away some of the yuck before she’d be able to spend the hours and hours it was going to require for her to sort through so much.

Luckily the old vacuum cleaner her parents had left in case the renters didn’t have one was still in the hall closet of the second floor. It was also fortunately in working order.

She dragged it to the attic and went about the first order of business—cleaning enough to be able to stand it up there, firmly setting her thoughts to that rather than to Reid.

At least as much as possible knowing all the while that he was just downstairs….

It took the rest of the day and well into the evening before the attic and the surfaces of what was stored there were cobweb-, dust-and spider-free. Only when Chloe was done did she realize that the daylight that had been coming in through the octagonal windows at either end of the attic had disappeared and left only darkness outside.

And for no reason she understood, Reid was the first thing to pop into her mind again when it occurred to her that the day was gone.

With the second floor between them, she hadn’t been able to hear anything, so she wondered if he was still downstairs or if he’d wrapped up his work for the day and left. Without a word to her.

And while she knew that was what she should be hoping for, as she turned off the bare bulbs that lit the attic and descended the narrow staircase to the second level, she wasn’t hoping for that. Although she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for…

Just in case he might still be there, she made a pit stop in her bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. The sweatsuit she’d put on earlier was covered in grime. Though she’d worn the less-than-attractive outfit so as not to run the risk of appearing as if she cared how she looked to Reid, she was secretly happy for the excuse to change and shed the sweats quickly, replacing them with jeans and a turtleneck T-shirt she tucked into them.

Then she went into the bathroom, washed her face, applied a hint of mascara and blush she’d also forgone earlier, and brushed out her hair. If she went downstairs and discovered Reid was long gone and she was alone, she was going to feel ridiculous for doing it all.

She was spared that, though. Because when she went down the second set of stairs, there was Reid, drying off a paintbrush.

“I didn’t know if you were still here or not,” Chloe said to announce herself, taking instant stock of him.

He was dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing early that morning and there was a shadow of a beard darkening the lower half of that face that she wanted to study but knew she shouldn’t. The shadow of a beard that gave him a scruffy, sexy appeal he would never have had at eighteen when there was too much of the boy still on the surface.

“I just wrapped it up for the day,” he answered, his tone again amiable, if slightly restrained.

But then, as if he couldn’t maintain that restraint, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen and said, “There’s nothing to eat around here. What were you thinking about for dinner?”

“I hadn’t thought about it yet,” she admitted. Which was true. She’d eaten before leaving Billings the night before, assuming she would do a grocery run today. But without a car and feeling a bit too wobbly to walk to Main Street, she’d lunched on the cheese crackers she’d brought with her. Then she’d been too busy fighting with the rental agency, cleaning the attic and thinking about Reid to consider what she was going to do for the evening meal.

“No car, no food in the house—how about ordering a pizza?” Reid said. “Paul’s delivers now. It’s one of Northbridge’s flashy new amenities. I’ll even treat.”

“Really?” Chloe was so surprised by that offer that the word slipped out on its own. She just couldn’t believe he was asking her to have dinner.

“Really,” Reid confirmed. “We can do that, can’t we? After all this time? Share a friendly pizza? It shouldn’t be a big deal, should it?”

It probably shouldn’t have been. But it was. At least to Chloe. It was a big deal that he was suggesting it, that he was willing to do it. And it was a big deal that she would be spending some time with him when he was making an effort to be pleasant. When he was likable. When he looked the way he did even in clothes that had paint smudges on them….

“Sure,” she said after another moment’s hesitation. “I think we can share a pizza. We’re two grown up, civilized people.” Who were both obviously only tentatively feeling their way along what was a new path for them.

“Let’s do it then,” he said. “Do you still want ‘The Works’ or have you gone vegetarian or something?”

Chloe knew from their high school days that the only pizzeria in town—Paul’s Pizzeria—made a pie called The Works and that it was a large pizza topped with pepperoni, sausage, seasoned ground beef, black olives, mushrooms, green peppers, onions and three different kinds of cheese. It had been their favorite and at that moment it sounded wonderful.

“No, I haven’t gone vegetarian or anything. The Works would be great,” she said.

Reid set his paintbrush and rag down, then retrieved his cell phone from the pocket of his jean jacket where it was slung over the carpet roll. It took him only a few moments to order. He clearly recognized Paul’s voice, identified himself, and said he wanted The Works sent to the rental house. In Northbridge everyone knew everyone else’s business so intimately that that was all the information necessary.

Then Reid hung up. “We’re all set. Luke and I have the fridge stocked with sodas and beer. Which would you like?”

Before Chloe could tell him, his cell phone rang.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want and I’ll get drinks while you answer that?” Chloe said.

“Soda is fine for me,” he said by way of conceding the logic in that idea.

Chloe couldn’t help overhearing the conversation as she took two colas from the refrigerator. While the tone was medical, there was something else about the exchange that sparked her interest.

When the call ended she went as far as the archway between the living room and the kitchen with cans in hand and said, “Linoleum or paint-splotched carpeting?” Since there weren’t any chairs anywhere they would need to sit on the floor of one room or the other.

“Paint-splotched carpeting,” he decreed, motioning for her to sit in the very center where the least of the splatters marred the olive green shag floor covering.

Chloe sat with her legs curled to one side, watching as Reid returned his phone to his coat pocket, and trying—really, really trying—not to watch him do it and notice that even his derriere had improved with age.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your call but…well, I did anyway. Do you deal in blood that isn’t human?” she asked, referring to something she’d overheard him say.

He didn’t join her on the floor. Instead, he went to stand with his back braced against the door, raising a knee so that the sole of one cowboy-booted foot was flat against the wooden panel. Then he slid his hands into the rear pockets that she’d been attempting not to look at a split second before.

“Remember the stories that have been around forever about Reverend Perry’s wife?” Reid asked rather than giving her a direct answer about the blood.

“The scandal about her helping two itinerant farmhands rob the bank and running off with them?” Chloe said with intrigue in her tone.

“That would be the story, yes.”

It was one of the biggest scandals to ever hit Northbridge. It had happened in 1960. Celeste Perry had reputedly grown weary of her righteous life as the wife of the town minister and the mother of their two young sons. She’d become enamored of one of two hard-living, hard-drinking farmhands—Frank Dorian and Mickey Rider—who had come into town during harvest season. On a night at the end of that October she’d slipped out of her marital bed to meet up with her lover and his partner. Later investigation had revealed that her lover and his partner were bank robbers rather than migrant farm workers, and after breaking into Northbridge’s only Savings and Loan and its vault, and cleaning out all the money they could carry, the reverend’s wife and the two men had disappeared.

“Is Reverend Perry still around?” Chloe asked, not only because she was curious, but also because it helped to have something to talk about that was completely separate from either of them and their own past problems, and she wanted to prolong it.

“He is,” Reid answered. “But he retired about five years ago.”

“And your phone call had something to with him and what happened with his wife?”

“We’re refurbishing the north bridge—it’s being restored and the land around it will be turned into a park so the town’s namesake isn’t just some rundown relic. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago one of the guys working on it found an old duffel bag jammed into the rafters. It was stuffed with the belongings of one of the robbers and the empty moneybags from the bank. There were some stains on the outside of the duffel that looked like they might be blood.”

“Human blood,” Chloe repeated.

“There’s no way to tell that just by looking at it. Especially after all this time. I did the initial tests—”

“You did?”

“The wearing-of-many-hats in a small town. The police department keeps some of the chemicals needed to do the initial tests. The first thing that has to be determined is if it is human blood—if it proves to be animal blood they don’t bother the forensic lab in Billings and waste their time. I did the tests here and they appeared positive for human blood.”

“But that call sounded as if someone else was telling you that.”

“They were confirming it and expanding on it,” he qualified. “The call was from the forensic lab—I’ve been playing phone tag with the pathologist there since this morning and that was him returning my last message to his voice mail. I was right, the blood was human, but the forensic lab did more extensive tests and was able to come up with the blood type. Which has just told us that the blood isn’t Celeste Perry’s.”

“So it was from one of the men,” Chloe concluded.

“We have Celeste’s pre-1960 medical records to let us know if it matched hers. We don’t have anything on either of the men, but by process of elimination, since it’s definitely not Celeste’s blood, it’s certainly a possibility that it’s one of theirs. Luke and the rest of the cops here are going over the old investigation. Now that my tests have been confirmed, and the pathologist has found hair and tissue, too, there might need to be a search for a body.”

“Wow, big goings-on in Northbridge.”

“Yeah, everybody’s been talking about it,” Reid said.

“Don’t you need to let your brother or someone else on the police force know what you just found out?”

“Forensics is calling Luke with the formal report. The call to me was more courtesy because I went to med school with the pathologist,” Reid said just as the doorbell rang.

He pushed off the door, turned and opened it, greeting a teenager by name. Chloe didn’t recognize either the teenager or the name—a testament to how long she’d been away from Northbridge.

When Reid had paid for the pizza, he closed the door and finally joined her on the floor with the large box safely between them.

Paper plates, napkins and prewrapped packets of plastic cutlery had also been delivered and Reid divided them evenly before opening the box to reveal a pizza identical to what they’d shared numerous times in the past.

“It doesn’t look as if it’s changed,” Chloe commented, breathing deeply of the aroma of Paul’s special blend of spices and seasonings.

“You know Northbridge—not too much does.”

Reid served her a slice and then took one for himself, biting into its tip while Chloe used fork and knife. She pronounced it as good as ever after her first taste.

But with the renewed town scandal update exhausted and the subject of their dinner explored as far as it could be, an awkward silence fell. And since Reid had carried the conversation to that point, Chloe felt obligated to make her own contribution.

She just couldn’t think of what to say and settled on small talk that she knew he probably wasn’t interested in. But anything was better than the silence, so she glanced at the progress he’d made painting the room and said, “It looks like you got more done than I did today. I spent all afternoon arguing with the company I rented the car from.”

“They weren’t happy about the accident,” Reid guessed.

“That wasn’t the worst of it. I took out the insurance but they lost the paperwork and were trying to claim that I wasn’t covered. I had to go through channels to get them to acknowledge that I was, but even then they wanted me to pay to have the car towed back to Billings. I had to fight to get them to agree to do it themselves and then—for the third round—I had to force them to honor the clause in the contract that says they’ll send out a replacement.”

“Are they going to?”

“Reluctantly, since I’m ‘in the middle of nowhere’ as they said. But they won’t get one out here until the end of the week—Friday or Saturday. They insist that they can’t do it before then and nothing I said—or threatened—made any difference. They were big jerks.”

Something about her rant made Reid smile slightly and for no reason Chloe understood, the entire two hours of turmoil suddenly seemed worth it just to see that.

“I’ll be around all week so if you need to go anywhere that you don’t feel like walking to, I can take you.”

That offer was the second surprise of the evening and even though Chloe knew it probably wouldn’t be smart to take him up on it unless she had to, it pleased her to have it on the table.

“Thanks,” she said simply.

She turned down a second piece of pizza but Reid helped himself to another slice and said, “So. What do you do for a living?”

More safe, surface chat. But Chloe was grateful for it.

“You know the toy prizes in kids’ meals at fast-food restaurants? I design them.”

Another smile that sent a little warmth all through her.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope, I’m not kidding. Movie tie-ins. Spinning things. Wheelie things. Dolls. Action figures. Magic tricks. You name it, I’ve done it.”

“How did you get into that?”

“I kept up with the painting and drawing I’d always liked to do when I went to college. I thought I wanted to be a graphic artist. Designing a toy was an assignment in one of my classes and not only did I discover that I had a knack for it and enjoyed it, but the toy I designed—a robotic ladybug—ended up winning a couple of awards and being bought by a miniature toy company. Well, the company isn’t miniature, only the toys are. Anyway, they offered me a job on the spot. I turned it down because I wanted to finish school, but they were still interested when I did. I’ve been with them ever since.”

“Amazing.”

He did seem amazed. And impressed. Although Chloe didn’t know how impressive what she did was compared to what he did.

“How about you?” she countered. “You never said anything about wanting to be a doctor.”

“That came out in college. About the same time I was finding that I had an aptitude for the science classes I was also working for most of my tuition as a janitor at the hospital. Old Doc Seymour noticed that I was interested and encouraged me—actually he took me under his wing and taught me a lot before I even got into med school. He also put in a good word for me when it came time to apply and that didn’t do any harm in getting me in.”

“Where did you go?”

“Wayne State, in Detroit. I did my residency there, too. In the heart of the city. After that, coming back to Northbridge was a day in the park.”

“It can’t be too much of a day in the park if you’re the only doctor here,” she said, recalling his comment from that morning about needing a replacement to cover his vacation.

“It’s time consuming,” he admitted. “And tough getting enough sleep now and then. But I have it better than old Doc Seymour who did it before me because now there’s more supplementary staff—besides three nurses to Doc Seymour’s one, I have a nurse-practitioner and a physician’s assistant, too, which helps.”

“And what happened to old Doc Seymour?” Chloe asked but with some hesitancy, because talking about Northbridge’s former doctor took them closer to their past than she wanted to venture.

“He did what he always said he was going to do—he retired to his cabin out by the river and fishes a lot.”

“He doesn’t practice medicine anymore at all?”

“He comes into the hospital every Wednesday, walks around, pokes his nose in here and there, wants to know about any new gadget I’m using. But he’s eighty-six now, his eyesight isn’t great and if I’m seeing one of his former patients he likes to sit in. Sometimes even with lousy vision he still picks up on things I miss.”

“Do you like being a doctor?”

“Yeah, especially here. I get to do a little of everything and sort of take over the surrogate dad role old Doc Seymour played—even though I’m too young for it,” he added with a laugh.

Reid as a dad—surrogate or otherwise. Not a subject she wanted to get anywhere near.

As if he’d thought the same thing after making that comment, he glanced at his watch and said, “I should go.”

Chloe didn’t dispute it. But she did say, “No more pizza?” And she said it with a touch too much hopefulness in her tone.

“I think I’ve had my limit,” he answered, closing the lid on the box. “Besides, the leftovers will give you something to eat around here. Didn’t you always claim that was your favorite breakfast?”

“Mmm, cold pizza—it’s a treat,” she confirmed.

He got to his feet then and so did she, keeping her distance as he put on his coat. But she did follow behind as he headed for the door so she could lock it after him.

He didn’t go out, though. He stopped there, and with one hand on the knob, he met her gaze.

“This was okay,” he seemed to conclude.

Not an accolade but under the circumstances Chloe took it as high praise.

“It was okay,” she agreed.

“So do you think we can do this? Let bygones be bygones or something?”

“What do you think?” she asked. “I mean, do you think you can let bygones be bygones? Or something?”

He studied her for a long moment with those brilliant green eyes. And while they still didn’t look at her the way they had fourteen years ago, they also didn’t look at her the way they had the night before or that morning. And that was a relief. Even if she did still yearn a little for more.

“I can give it a try,” he said when he finally did answer.

“I’d like that,” Chloe responded quietly.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. How early can I start without disturbing you?”

“Anytime. Just use the key Betty gave you and come in. Even if it’s before I’m awake I can’t hear much of anything upstairs and I’ll probably sleep through it.”

“Okay, but I’ll be especially quiet until I know you’re up.”

She nodded.

“Good night, then.”

“Get home safely,” she joked, making him smile a little again.

For another moment they remained standing there, not too far apart, just looking at each other.

As they did, Chloe couldn’t help recalling so many other times when they’d said good-night at her door much like that. Only then he would have kissed her.

He would have kissed her in a way that would have filled her with a special kind of heat. That would have made her feel like his and his alone…

And of course that didn’t happen tonight.

Instead Reid broke the glance first, looking at the handle as he turned it to open the door.

“Thanks for the pizza,” she said belatedly.

“Sure,” he answered as he went out into the clear autumn night.

Then he closed the door behind him and Chloe stepped up to lock it.

When she did she could feel the warmth of his hand lingering on the knob and all on their own her eyes closed and she absorbed that sensation, picturing those other nights, those kisses that had sent her to bed with a smile on her face.

Those kisses…

She couldn’t help wondering if those kisses were anything like Reid’s kisses now. Or if, as had happened with his looks, his kisses had changed and matured, too.

And even though it was completely uncalled for, even though it was its own kind of torture for her, she also couldn’t help—in a secret, forbidden place deep inside of her—wishing she’d gotten a taste of his kiss, old or new, tonight.

Chapter Four

“Don’t get scared—I’m coming up.”

Chloe heard Reid’s warning from the bottom of the stairs to the attic. The sound of his deep voice and the thought that he was on his way to see her were enough to make her pulse race.

There was nothing she could do to slow her heartbeat; she just tried not to pay attention to it. Or to the fact that it meant she was glad he was coming to see her.

It was after seven o’clock Tuesday evening and although they’d both been in the house all day, they hadn’t actually connected. Chloe had been awake, lying in bed when she’d heard the front door open at 8:00 a.m. Moments later she’d also heard Reid climb the steps to the second floor, stop just outside of her bedroom door and then go back downstairs, leaving the scent of fresh coffee to drift in to her.

Curiosity had prompted her to get up and peek out the bedroom door where she’d found a foam cup full of wake-up-call waiting just outside.

She’d called a “Thank you!” in Reid’s wake, he’d hollered back, “You’re welcome,” and that was that. They hadn’t set eyes on each other.

Since coffee was frequently all she had for breakfast, she’d decided to skip the cold pizza and merely make the hot beverage her meal. Sipping it after she’d showered and dressed for the day, she’d gone directly to the attic.

When she’d stopped for lunch and finally trespassed into Reid’s territory downstairs, he’d been on his cell phone, apparently discussing a medical case. So Chloe had merely waved to him, snatched a slice of the cold pizza and a soda from the fridge and returned to the attic to eat while she attempted to put some sort of order to what she needed to do there.

Which was where she was and what she was doing still when he appeared in the doorway at that moment.

“Hi,” she greeted, slipping her hair behind her ears as she glanced up from the small stool where she was sitting in the middle of the attic floor.

“Hi to you, too,” he responded. “You’ve been up here so long without even poking your nose out that I was beginning to wonder if I should check and see if a giant attic rat had taken you prisoner.”

Chloe laughed and wrinkled her nose at the same time. “A giant attic rat? There better not be any rats up here, giant or otherwise.”

Reid came all the way into the attic, stopping not far from where she was and surveying the room.

As he did, she surveyed him. He was dressed almost exactly as he had been the day before—jeans and a white crewneck T-shirt, both of them similarly paint-stained. But unlike the previous evening, tonight his face was cleanly shaven, as if he’d left when the five o’clock shadow had appeared to remove it before coming back. Before climbing the steps to her.

Chloe liked the look of him both ways—scruffy and clean-shaven—but it gave her a bit of satisfaction to think that tonight he’d cared enough to do the second shave.

After a moment of studying the attic he said, “I was kind of surprised when we toured the house and saw how much stuff was up here.”

“Me, too. Apparently moving in a hurry leaves a lot behind.”

“It’s cleaner than it was when I initially saw it, but after all the hours you’ve put in, I thought you might have made a dent.”

“Yesterday was cleaning day—dust and cobweb duty. Today I’ve just been trying to get some idea of what I’m dealing with and how to organize it. Once I’d cleared some spaces for what will need to be thrown out, what can go to charity and what I’ll take with me piles, I barely got started actually going through anything. Hopefully I’ll make more headway tomorrow.”

“Big job.”

“Bigger than I’d anticipated,” Chloe said.

She debated about whether to say what was next on her mind, wondering if it would be a sore subject for Reid. But then she decided that she’d merely been enjoying what she’d been doing for the last half hour and if it didn’t bother her, maybe it wouldn’t bother him either.

So she said, “I started with some of my own stuff—” She pointed at two boxes set to one side. “Those are just old clothes and things I’ll donate to the church. But this box might interest you.” She nodded at the cardboard storage box at her feet, decorated with heart and flower stickers, and with Private! written in several places in bright pink marker.

“I don’t know,” he said, playing along. “It says it’s private.”

“To keep my parents out of it if they came across it hidden under my bed. But there are some things in it that you might even want back.”

“You found things of mine?”

“Mementos and keepsakes of dates,” she confided. Then she altered her tone and said, “Unless you’d rather not…”

Reid glanced into the box as cautiously as if something might jump out at him, and Chloe had the impression he was using that brief time to consider whether or not he did want to take that stroll down memory lane.

Then, as if his curiosity had gotten the best of him, much as it had her over coffee that morning, he said, “A hamburger wrapper?”

Chloe took it out of the box and handed it to him. “From Tastee Dog. It was where you took me to dinner before the Homecoming dance my freshman year. Is it still open?”

“Tastee Dog? Thriving. Being across from the school keeps it going.”

He studied what he was holding in hands that seemed bigger to Chloe than they had been fourteen years ago and she wondered if that was possible.

Then he said, “You honestly kept an old hamburger wrapper?”

“I not only kept it, I washed it, ironed it and had it taped to my wall for a while. That was not only my first date with you, it was my first date ever and I had to beg and bargain to get my parents to let me go. After all, you know how my parents were and I was only fourteen and you were the big man on campus at fifteen.”

Reid gave the hamburger wrapper back to her, rolled his eyes and, as if he were a pre-adolescent boy, said, “Girls are so sappy.”

“Be careful, there are a couple of things in here that were pretty sentimental and sappy of you.”

“Nah, never happened,” he joked. “I’m a tough guy.”

“Oh, Tough Guy, you’re just asking for it,” Chloe countered, searching through the box until she found what she was looking for.

“An old milk bottle and a broken arrow—were you going through my trash or what?” he said as if he’d never seen them before.

Chloe playfully swatted his shin with the back of her hand. “You gave them to me and I know you remember.”

He must have been drawn in in spite of himself because he sat down then, with the side of one thigh pressed to the floor and his other leg bent at the knee to brace his arm. He was also smiling a Cheshire cat smile that told her he did remember whether he wanted to admit it or not.

But just to bring home her point, she said, “It was from our song, the one that was playing on the radio when you said we were together—the Rod Stewart love song. This is a bottle of rain—evaporated now, but it was a bottle of rain—and this is a broken arrow.”

“It’s a good thing that was a wet spring or I still might not have that bottle filled,” he said by way of admission. “I’d leave it out every time it was supposed to rain and one of my brothers would get to it before me and dump it just to be ornery. I finally had to put it on the roof after they were all asleep one night and get up before any of them did the next morning.”

“So it would really be a bottle of rain and not just a bottle of water—I thought it was the most romantic thing anyone would ever do for me,” Chloe confessed.

“And was it?”

“Pretty much,” she said with a laugh.

Then, to avoid dwelling on that, she took out a shoe box and lifted the lid to show him what appeared to be a collection of scraps.

“Stubs,” she dubbed it all. “Well, stubs and receipts and matchbooks and napkins and any little thing I could put in my purse as a souvenir of almost every place we ever went.”

“Kleptomania?”

“A teenage girl’s need to immortalize everything that goes on with her boyfriend.”

When Chloe closed the lid on the shoe box Reid peered into the larger storage box again. “I see a whole bunch of dead flowers in there. What did they immortalize?”

“Some are flowers you gave me on birthdays or special occasions or just to be sweet, and the rest are corsages from every dance we went to—ten all together.”

“Did we go to ten dances?”

“That Homecoming dance my freshman year was our first date—you were a sophomore. We went to that, the Christmas dance and the Pre-Spring Fling that year—we couldn’t go to the prom because we were too young. That’s three dances. My sophomore year—your junior—we went to all four dances. That makes seven. And the year you were a senior we missed only the Pre-Spring Fling. A total of ten.”

“You had the flu the night of the Pre-Spring Fling,” Reid contributed.

Chloe scrounged in the box again and as she did she said, “And you came over and sat with me the whole night anyway and brought me Spiderman comic books.” When she found the old issues she took them out to show him she’d kept them, too.

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