The Women of Brambleberry House are back!

Returning home to Cannon Beach and living in Brambleberry House, a place where good things seemed destined to happen, had brought Melissa Fielding and her young daughter such joy. Perhaps it was no accident when the single mom “bumped” into Eli Sanderson, and discovered the handsome doctor was also back in town. The ex-soldier was still so captivating, but also more guarded. Was now the time to put old ghosts to rest?

RAEANNE THAYNE finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author lives with her husband and three children. Her books have won numerous honours, including RITA® Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers and can be contacted through her website, www.raeannethayne.com.

Also by RaeAnne Thayne

A Cold Creek Christmas Surprise The

Christmas Ranch

A Cold Creek Christmas Story

The Holiday Gift

The Rancher’s Christmas Song

A Soldier’s Secret

His Second-Chance Family

The Daddy Makeover

Serenity Harbor

Sugar Pine Trail

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

A Soldier’s Return

RaeAnne Thayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09066-7

A SOLDIER’S RETURN

© 2019 RaeAnne Thayne LLC

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To Jill Shalvis and Marina Adair.

I love our seaside adventures!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Some days, a girl reached a point where her best course of action was to run away from her problems.

Melissa Fielding hung up the phone after yet another unproductive discussion with her frustrating ex-husband, drew in a deep, cleansing breath, then threw on her favorite pair of jogging shoes.

Yes, she had a million things to do. The laundry basket spilled over with clothes, she had bills to pay, dirty dishes filled her sink, and she was scheduled to go into the doctor’s office where she worked in less than two hours.

None of that mattered right now. She had too much energy seething through her, wave after wave like the sea pounding Cannon Beach during a storm.

Even Brambleberry House, the huge, rambling Victorian where she and her daughter lived in the first-floor apartment, seemed too small right now.

She needed a little good, hard exercise to work some of it off or she would be a stressed, angry mess at work.

She and Cody had been divorced for three years, separated four, but he could still make her more frustrated than anybody else on earth. Fortunately, their seven-year-old daughter, Skye, was at school, so she didn’t have to witness her parents arguing yet again.

She yanked open her apartment door to head for the outside door when it opened from the other side. Rosa Galvez, her de facto landlady who ran the three-unit building for her aunt and a friend, walked inside, arms loaded with groceries.

Her friend took one look at Melissa’s face and frowned. “Uh-oh. Bad morning?” Rosa asked, her lovely features twisted with concern.

Now that she was off the phone, the heat of Melissa’s anger cooled a degree or two, but she could still feel the restless energy spitting and hissing through her like a downed power line.

“You know how it goes. Five minutes on the phone with my ex and I either have to punch something, spend an hour doing yoga or go for a hard run on the beach. I don’t have a free hour and punching something would be counterproductive, so a good run is the winner.” Melissa took two bags of groceries from Rosa and led the way up the stairs to the other woman’s third-floor apartment.

“Run an extra mile or two for me, would you?” Rosa asked.

“Sure thing.”

“What does he want this time?”

She sighed. “It’s a long story.” She didn’t want to complain to her friend about Cody. It made her sound bitter and small, and she wasn’t, only frustrated at all the broken promises and endless disappointments.

Guilt, an old, unwelcome companion, poked her on the shoulder. Her daughter loved her father despite his failings. Skye couldn’t see what Melissa did—that even though Skye was only seven, there was a chance she was more mature than her fun-loving, thrill-chasing father.

She ignored the guilt, reminding herself once more there was nothing she could do about her past mistakes but continue trying to make the best of things for her child’s sake.

Rosa opened the door to her wide, window-filled apartment, and Melissa wasn’t surprised to find Rosa’s much-loved dog, an Irish setter named Fiona, waiting just inside.

“Can I take Fiona on my run?” she asked impulsively, after setting the groceries in the kitchen.

“That would be great!” Rosa exclaimed. “We were going to go on a walk as soon as I put the groceries away, but she would love a run much more. Thank you! Her leash is there on the hook.”

At the word leash, Fiona loped to the door and did a little circular dance of joy that made more of Melissa’s bad mood seep away.

“Let’s do this, sweetheart,” she said, grabbing the leash from its place by the door and hooking it to Fiona’s shamrock-green collar.

“Thank you for this. Have fun.” Rosa opened the door for them, and the strong dog just about pulled Melissa toward the stairs. She waved at her friend, then she and the dog hurried outside.

The April morning was one of those rare and precious days along the Oregon Coast when Mother Nature decided it was finally time to get serious about spring. Sunlight gleamed on the water and all the colors seemed saturated and bright from the rains of the preceding few days.

The well-tended gardens of Brambleberry House were overflowing with sweet-smelling flowers—cherry blossoms, magnolia, camellias. It was sheer delight. She inhaled the heavenly aroma, enjoying the undernote of sea and sand and other smells that were inexorable scent-memories of her childhood.

Fiona pulled at the leash, forcing Melissa to pick up her pace. Yes. A good run was exactly the prescription she was writing herself.

As she headed down the path toward the gate that led to the water, she spotted Sonia, the third tenant of Brambleberry House, working in a bed of lavender that hadn’t yet burst into bloom.

Sonia was an interesting creature. She wasn’t rude, exactly, she simply kept to herself and had done so for the seven months Melissa had lived downstairs from her.

Melissa always felt so guilty when she watched the other woman make her painstaking way up the stairs to her second-floor apartment, often pausing to rest on the landing. She didn’t know the nature of Sonia’s health issues, but she obviously struggled with something. She walked with a limp, and Rosa had told Melissa once that the other woman had vision issues that precluded driving.

Right after moving in, Melissa had offered to switch apartments with her so Sonia wouldn’t have to make the climb, but her offer had been refused.

“I need...the exercise,” Sonia had said in her halting, odd cadence. “Going upstairs is good...physical therapy...for me.”

Melissa had to admire someone willing to push herself out of her comfort zone, sustained only by the hope that she would grow from the experience.

That was a good life lesson for her. She wasted entirely too much energy dwelling on the painful reality that life hadn’t turned out exactly as she planned, that some of her dreams were destined to disappointment.

Like Sonia, maybe it was time she stopped being cranky about things she couldn’t control and took any chance that came along to force herself to stretch outside her comfort zone. She needed to learn how to make the best of things, to simply enjoy a gorgeous April day.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“Lovely,” Sonia said with her somewhat lopsided smile. “Hello...Melissa. Hello...Fiona.”

She scratched the dog under her chin and was rewarded with one of Fi’s doggie grins.

While the Irish setter technically lived with Rosa, the cheerful dog seemed to consider all the occupants of Brambleberry House her particular pack. That shared pet care worked out well for Melissa. Her daughter had been begging for a dog since before the divorce. Skye had been in heaven when they’d moved into Brambleberry House and discovered Rosa had a dog she was more than willing to share. This way, they got the benefits of having a dog without the onus of being responsible for one all the time.

That was yet another thing she had to be grateful for on this beautiful spring day. She had been so blessed to find an open apartment in Brambleberry House when she and Skye returned to Cannon Beach after all those years of wandering. It was almost a little miracle, since the previous tenant had only moved out to get married the week before Melissa returned to her hometown and started looking for a place.

She didn’t know if it was fate or kismet or luck or simply somebody watching out for them. She only knew that she and Skye had finally found a place to throw down roots.

She ran hard, accompanied by the sun on her face, the low murmur of the waves, the crunch of sand under her running shoes. All of it helped calm her.

By the time she and Fiona made it the mile and a half to the end of the beach and she’d turned around to head back, the rest of her frustration had abated, and she focused instead on the endorphins from the run and the joy of living in this beautiful place.

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, looking out at the rock formations offshore, the towering haystacks that so defined this part of the Oregon Coast, then the craggy green mountains to the east.

It was so good to be home. She had friends here, connections. Her dad was buried not far from here. Her mom and stepfather were here most of the time, though they had just bought an RV and were spending a few months traveling around the country.

She would have thought being a military wife to Melissa’s dad would have cured her mother’s wanderlust, but apparently not. They would be back soon.

Melissa didn’t envy them. After moving to a new base every few years during her childhood and then following Cody around from continent to continent, she loved being in one place. This place. She had missed it more than she even realized, until she finally decided to bring Skye here.

She should have done it years ago instead of trying so hard to stay close to her ex-husband for Skye’s sake. She had enjoyed living on Oahu, his home training location, but the cost of living had been prohibitive. Most of her salary as a nurse had gone to housing and the rest to food.

When he decided to move to South America on a whim, she had finally thrown up her hands and opted not to follow him. Instead, she had packed up her daughter for one last move and come home to Cannon Beach.

She started her run again, not wanting to spend more time than she already had that morning dwelling on her mistakes.

It made her sad, wondering if she should have tried harder to make things work, even though she was fully aware both of them had left the marriage long before they finally divorced.

Now wasn’t the time to obsess about her failures or the loneliness that kept her up at night.

He had gotten married again. That was what he called to tell her earlier. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision and they’d gone to St. Croix for their honeymoon, which had been beautiful but expensive. He’d spent so much on the honeymoon, in fact, that he couldn’t make that month’s child support payment, but he would make it up to her.

He was coming back to Oregon to stay this time, and was willing to finally step up and be the dad he should have been all along. She’d been hearing that story or versions of it for fifteen years. She hoped it would happen, she really did.

Cody wasn’t a bad man. She wouldn’t have loved him all those years and followed him from country to country to support his dreams if he were. But with the birth of their child, her priorities had changed, while she was afraid his never would.

Enough about Cody. She was genuinely happy for her ex, even if hearing about his new marriage did make her wish she had someone special in her own life.

She sighed again and gripped Fiona’s leash. “Come on, Fi. Let’s go home.”

An odd wind danced across the sand, warmer than the air around it. She almost thought she could hear laughter rippling around her, though she was virtually alone on the beach.

She was hearing things again. Once in a while at the house, she could swear she heard a woman’s laugh when no one was there, and a few times she had smelled roses on the stairwell, for no apparent reason.

Maybe the ghost of Brambleberry House had been in the mood for a run today, too. The thought made her smile and she continued heading home.

Few people were out on the beach on this off-season morning, but she did happen to catch sight of a guy running toward her from the opposite direction. He was too far away for her to really see clearly, but she had the random impression of lean strength and fluid grace.

Ridiculous, she told herself. How could she know that from two hundred yards away?

She continued running, intent now only on finishing so she could go into work.

Fiona trotted along beside her in the same rhythm they had worked out through countless runs like this together. She was aware of the other runner coming closer. He had a dog, too, a small black one who also looked familiar.

They were only fifty feet apart when Fiona, for no apparent reason, suddenly veered in front of Melissa, then stopped stock-still.

With no time to change course or put on the brakes, Melissa toppled over the eighty-pound dog and went flying across the sand. She shoved her hands out to catch her fall instinctively. Her right arm hit sand and she felt a jolt in her shoulder from the impact, but the left one must have made contact with a rock buried beneath the sand, causing a wrenching pain to shoot from her wrist up her arm.

This day just kept getting better and better.

She gasped and flopped over onto her back, cradling the injured wrist as a haze of pain clouded her vision.

Fiona nosed her side as if in apology, and Melissa bit back her instinctive scold. What on earth had gotten into Fiona? They had run together dozens of times. The Irish setter was usually graceful, beautifully trained, and never cut across her path like that.

For about ten seconds, it was all she could do not to writhe around on the ground and howl. She was trying not to cry when she gradually became aware she wasn’t alone.

“Are you okay?” a deep male voice asked.

She was covered in sand, grabbing her wrist and whimpering like a baby seal that had lost its mama. Did she look okay?

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a little spill.”

She looked up—way, way up—and somehow wasn’t surprised to find the other runner she had spotted a few moments earlier.

Her instincts were right. He was great-looking. She had an impression of dark hair and concerned blue eyes that looked familiar. He wore running shorts and a formfitting performance shirt that molded to powerfully defined muscles.

She swallowed and managed to sit up. What kind of weird karma was this? She had just wished for a man in her life, and suddenly a gorgeous one seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

Surely it had to be a coincidence.

Anyway, she might like the idea of a man in her life, but she wasn’t at all prepared for the reality of it—especially not a dark-haired, blue-eyed runner who still somehow managed to smell delicious.

He also had a little dog on a leash, a small black schnauzer who was sniffing Fiona like they were old friends.

“Can I give you a hand?”

“Um. Sure.”

Still cradling her injured wrist, she reached out with her right hand, and he grasped it firmly and tugged her to her feet. For one odd moment, she could swear she smelled roses above the clean, crisp, masculine scent of him, but that made absolutely no sense.

Was she hallucinating? Maybe she had bonked her head in that gloriously graceful free fall.

“You hurt your wrist,” he observed. “Need me to take a look at it? I’m a doctor.”

What were the odds that she would fall and injure herself in front of a gorgeous tourist who also happened to be a doctor?

“Isn’t that convenient?” she muttered, wondering again at the weird little twist of fate.

He gave her an odd look, half curious and half concerned. Again, she had the strange feeling that she knew him somehow, but she had such a lousy memory for faces and names.

“Melissa. Melissa Blake?”

She narrowed her gaze, more embarrassed at her own lousy memory than anything. He knew her so she obviously had met him before.

“Yes. Actually, it’s Melissa Fielding now.”

“Oh. Right. You married Cody Fielding, Cannon Beach’s celebrity.”

And divorced him, she wanted to add. Don’t forget that part.

“I’m sorry. You know me, but I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

He shrugged. “No reason you should. I was a few years older and I’ve been gone a long time.”

She looked closer. There was something about the shape of his mouth. She had seen it recently on someone else...

“Eli?”

“That’s right. Hi, Melissa.”

She should have known! All the clues came together. The dog, whom she now recognized as Max, the smart little dog who belonged to Eli’s father. The fact that he said he was a doctor. Those startling, searching blue eyes that now seemed unforgettable.

How embarrassing!

In her defense, the last time she had seen Eli Sanderson, he had been eighteen and she had been fifteen. He had graduated from high school and was about to take off across the country to college. The Eli she remembered had been studious and serious. He had kept mostly to himself, more interested in leading the academic decathlon than coming to any sporting events or social functions.

She had been the opposite, always down for a party, as long as it distracted her from the sadness at home in those first years after her father died of brain cancer.

The Eli she remembered had been long and lanky, skinny even. This man, on the other hand, was anything but nerdy. He was buff, gorgeous, with lean, masculine features and the kind of shoulders that made a woman want to grab hold and not let go.

Wow. The military had really filled him out.

“I understand you work with my dad,” he said.

She worked for his father. Melissa was a nurse at Dr. Wendell Sanderson’s family medicine clinic. Now she realized why that mouth looked so familiar. She should have picked up on it immediately. His dad’s mouth was shaped the same, but somehow that full bottom lip looked very different on Dr. Sanderson Jr.

Her wrist still ached fiercely. “How’s your dad?” she asked, trying to divert her attention from it. “I stopped by to see him yesterday after his surgery and was going to call the hospital to check on him today as soon as I finished my run.”

“He’s good. I was trying to be here before he went under the knife, but my plane was delayed until last night. I did speak to the orthopedic surgeon, who is happy with the outcome so far. Both knee replacements seem to have gone well.”

“Oh, good. He won’t tolerate being down for long. I guess that’s why it made sense for him to do both at the same time.”

“You know him well.”

After several months of working for the kindly family medicine doctor, she had gained a solid insight into his personality. Wendell was sweet, patient, genuinely concerned about his patients. He was the best boss she’d ever had.

“Let’s take a look at this wrist,” Eli said now. Unlike his father, Wendell’s son could never be described as kindly or avuncular.

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Again, I’m a doctor. Why don’t you let me be the judge of how fine it might be? I saw that nasty tumble and could hear the impact of your fall all the way across the sand. You might have broken something, in which case you’re going to want to have it looked at sooner rather than later.”

She was strangely reluctant to hand over her wrist—or anything else—to the man and fought the urge to hide her hand behind her back, as if she were caught with a fistful of Oreos in front of an empty cookie jar.

“I can have the radiologist at the clinic x-ray it when I go in to work in an hour.”

“Or you can let me take a look at it right now.”

She frowned at the implacable set of his jaw. He held his hand out and she sighed. “Ugh. You’re as stubborn as your father.”

“Thank you. Anytime someone compares me to my father, I take it as a compliment.”

He gave his outstretched hand a pointed look, and she frowned again and, cornered, held out her wrist. The movement made her hurt all over again, and she flushed at the unwilling tears she could feel gather.

His skin was much warmer than she might have expected on a lovely but still cool April morning. Seductively warm. His hands were long-fingered, masculine, much longer than her own, and he wore a sleek Tag Heuer watch.

Her stomach felt hollow, her nerves tight, but she wasn’t sure if that was in reaction to the injury or from the unexpected pleasure of skin against skin. He was a doctor taking a look at an injury, she reminded herself, not a sexy guy wanting to hold her hand.

Melissa aimed a glare at Fiona, who had started the whole thing. The dog had planted her haunches in the sand, tail wagging, and seemed to be watching the whole episode with an expression that appeared strangely like amusement.

“It doesn’t feel like anything is broken. You can move it, right?”

He held her hand while she wiggled her fingers, then rotated her wrist. It hurt like the devil, but she didn’t feel any structural impingement in movement.

“Yes. I told you it wasn’t broken. It’s already feeling better.”

“You can’t be completely sure without an X-ray, but I’m all right waiting forty-eight hours or so to check it. I suspect a sprain, but it might be easier to tell in a few days. Do you have a way to splint it? If you don’t, I’m sure my dad has something at the office.”

“I’ve got a wrist brace I’ve worn before when I had carpal tunnel problems.”

“You’ll want to put that on and have it checked again in a few days. Meanwhile, ice and elevation are your best friends. At least ten minutes every two hours.”

As if she had time for that. “I’ll do my best. Thanks.”

A sudden thought occurred to her, one she was almost afraid to entertain. “How long will you be in town?”

When he was making arrangements to be gone for his surgery, Wendell had hoped Eli might be able to cover for him at the clinic. The last she had heard, though, Eli’s hadn’t been able to get leave from his military assignment so his father had arranged a substitute doctor through a service in Portland.

Given that Eli was here, she had a feeling all that was about to change—which meant Eli might be her boss for the foreseeable future.

“I’m not sure how much time I can get,” he answered now. “That depends on a few things still in play. I’m hoping for a month but I’ll be here for the next two to three weeks, at least.”

“I see.”

She did see, entirely too clearly. This would obviously not be the last she would see of Eli Sanderson.

“I need to go. Thanks for your help,” she said quickly.

“I didn’t do anything except take a look at your injury. At least promise me you’ll raise it up and put some ice on it.”

Considering she was scheduled to work at his father’s clinic starting in just over an hour and still needed to shower, she wouldn’t have time for much self-pampering. “I’ll do my best. Thanks.”

“How far do you have to go? I can at least help you walk your dog home.”

“Fiona isn’t my dog. She belongs to my neighbor. We were just sort of exercising each other. And for the record, she’s usually very well behaved. I don’t quite know what happened earlier, but we’ll be fine to make it home on our own. I don’t want to disturb your run more than I already have.”

“Are you sure?”

“We don’t have far to go. I live at Brambleberry House.”

His expression registered his surprise. “Wow. You’re practically next door to my dad’s place.”

They couldn’t avoid each other, even if they wanted to. She didn’t necessarily want to avoid him, but considering she was now bedraggled and covered with sand, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be in a hurry to see her again.

“Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you later.”

“Remember your RICE.”

Right. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. The first-aid prescription for injuries like hers. “I’ll do my best. Thanks. See you later.”

This time as she headed for the house, Fiona trotted along beside her, docile and well behaved.

Melissa’s wrist, on the other hand, complained vociferously all the way back to the house. She did her best to ignore it, focusing instead on the unsettling encounter with Dr. Sanderson’s only son.

* * *

Eli told himself he was only keeping an eye on Melissa as she made her slow way along the beach toward Brambleberry House because he was concerned about her condition, especially whether she had other injuries from her fall she had chosen not to reveal to him.

He was only being a concerned physician, watching over someone who had been hurt while he was nearby.

The explanation rang hollow. He knew it was more than that.

Melissa Blake Fielding had always been a beautiful girl and had fascinated him more than he had wanted to admit to himself or anyone else when he was eighteen and she was only fifteen.

She had been a pretty cheerleader, popular and well-liked—mostly because she always had a smile for everyone, even geeky science students who weren’t the greatest at talking to popular, pretty, well-liked cheerleaders.

He had danced with her once at a school dance toward the end of his senior year. She had been there with her date—and future husband—Cody Fielding, who had been ignoring her, as usual.

While his own date had been dancing with her dad, the high school gym teacher and chaperone, Eli had gathered his nerve to ask Melissa to dance, hating that the nicest girl in school had been stuck sitting alone while her jerk of a boyfriend ignored her.

He remembered she had been everything sweet to him during that memorable dance, asking about his plans after graduation.

Did she know her boyfriend and future husband hadn’t taken kindly to Eli’s nerve in asking Cody’s date to dance and had tried to make him pay? He still had a scar above his eyebrow from their subsequent little altercation.

It had been a long time ago. He was a completely different man than he’d been back then, with wholly different priorities.

He hadn’t thought about her in years, at least until his father had mentioned a few months earlier that Melissa was back in town and working for him.

At the time, he had been grieving, lost, more than a little raw. He remembered now that the memory of Melissa had made him smile for the first time in weeks.

Now he had to wonder if that was one of the reasons he had worked hard to arrange things so that he could come home and help his father out during Wendell’s recovery from double knee-replacement surgery. On some subconscious level, had he remembered Melissa worked at the clinic and been driven to see her again?

He didn’t want to think so. He would be one sorry idiot if that were the case, especially since he didn’t have room in his life right now for that kind of complication.

If he had given it any thought at all, on any level, he probably would have assumed it wouldn’t matter. He was older, she was older. It had been a long time since he’d felt like that awkward, socially inept nerd he’d been in the days when he lived here in Cannon Beach.

He had been deployed most of the last five years and had been through bombings, genocides, refugee disasters. He had seen things he never expected to, had survived things others hadn’t.

He could handle this unexpected reunion with a woman he might have had a crush on. He only had to remember that he was no longer that geeky, awkward kid but a well-respected physician now.

In comparison to everything he had been through in the last few years—and especially the horror of six months ago that he was still trying to process—he expected these few weeks of substituting for his father in Cannon Beach to be a walk in the park.

Chapter Two

“You’re late.” Carmen Marquez, the clinic’s receptionist and office manager, gave an arch look over the top of her readers, and Melissa winced but held up her braced wrist.

“I know. It’s been a crazy day. I’m sorry. Blame it on this.”

“What did you do? Punch somebody?” Tiffany Lowell, one of their certified nursing assistants, gave her a wide-eyed look—though the college student and part-time band front woman wore so much makeup, she had the same expression most of the time.

“I tripped over a big, goofy Irish setter and sprained my wrist. I’m sorry I’m late, but I was on strict orders to rest and put ice on it.”

“That’s exactly what you should be doing. In fact, it’s what Dr. Sanderson would be telling you to do if he were here,” Carmen said.

Dr. Sanderson Jr. had been the one to give her the instructions, but she wasn’t ready to share that interesting bit of gossip with the other women.

“You look like you’re either going to puke or pass out,” Tiffany observed.

“We don’t have any patients scheduled for another half hour,” Carmen said with a great deal more sympathy in her voice. “You should at least sit down.”

“I’m fine. I need to get ready for the new doctor. He should be coming in today.”

Carmen angled her head in a strange way, her mouth pursed and her eyes twinkling. “He’s already here. Oh, honey. Have we got a surprise for you.”

The butterflies that had been dancing in her stomach since earlier on the beach seemed to pick up their pace. “The substitute doctor is Dr. Sanderson’s son, Eli.”

“Whoa! Did your fall make you psychic or something?” Tiffany asked with much more respect than she usually awarded Melissa.

“In a way, I guess you could say that. Sort of. I bumped into him on the beach this morning. He was a firsthand witness when I made my graceful face-plant into the sand, and he ended up kindly helping me up.”

The memory of the concern in his blue eyes and of his strong fingers holding her hand, his skin warm against hers, made her nerve endings tingle.

She firmly clamped down on the memory. She would have to work closely with him for at least the next few weeks while Wendell recovered. It would be a disaster if she couldn’t manage to keep a lid on her unexpected attraction to the man.

“I keep forgetting you grew up in town,” Carmen said. “You must know Eli, then.”

While Cannon Beach could swarm with tourists during the summer months, it was really a small town at heart. Most permanent residents knew one another.

“We went to school together. He was older. I was a freshman the year he was a senior. I didn’t know he was going to be filling in until I bumped into him this morning. Last I heard, we were getting a temp from the Portland agency.”

“That’s what I heard, too,” Carmen said. “I guess we have to roll with what we get.”

“I’m pretty sure plenty of women in Cannon Beach will want to roll with Doc Sanderson’s son when they see him.” Tiffany smirked.

Melissa turned her shocked laugh into a cough. “He told me he wasn’t sure until the last minute whether he’d be able to make it back to fill in.”

“You know where he’s been, right?” Carmen asked.

“Some kind of war zone,” Tiffany said.

Wendell had told her something about what his son was doing, how since finishing his internship in emergency medicine several years earlier, Eli had been on a special assignment from the military to work with aid agencies, setting up medical clinics and providing care to desperate, helpless people whose countries were in turmoil. He had been deployed almost constantly over the last five years.

Wendell had been so proud of his son for stepping up, even though his service put him in harm’s way time and again. He had also been worried for him.

“He feels things so deeply,” her boss had said. “I can’t imagine it’s easy, the kinds of things he has to see now.”

She remembered feeling great sympathy for Eli and admiration for him, though at the time she had pictured him as the nerdy, scholarly, skinny teenager she remembered, not the buff, gorgeous man she had encountered that morning on the beach.

“One thing I need to ask, though. Maybe you know the answer,” Carmen said. “How can he just show up in Cannon Beach and start practicing medicine here? Do I need to check with the licensing board? Doesn’t he need an Oregon license or something?”

“Fun and interesting fact. The particular license given to U.S. Army doctors allows them to practice medicine anywhere.”

Melissa could feel her vertebrae stiffen and nerves flutter at the deep voice from behind her.

Oh, it was going to be a long two or three weeks if she didn’t take control of this ridiculous crush she had suddenly formed for Eli Sanderson.

“I guess that makes sense,” Carmen said.

“Yes,” he answered. “Think how confusing it would be if an army doc had to go before the licensing board every time he was called to an emergency or had a new assignment.”

“That would be a serious pain.” Melissa hated the slightly breathless note in her voice. She sounded ridiculous, like the kind of brainless bikini-clad groupies who used to follow the pro surfers on the circuit.

She cleared her throat, wishing she could clear away her nerves as easily.

“Good to know. I’ll file that little tidbit away, in case I’m ever on a game show where ‘Army Doctors’ is a category.”

Tiffany snorted, and Eli’s mouth quirked up into a little smile, teeth flashing. She had the strangest feeling he hadn’t found that many things to smile about lately, though she couldn’t have said exactly why she had that impression.

“That would be the most boring game show ever,” he said. “Unless you love learning about regulations and protocol.”

“I really don’t. As long as you can legally see your father’s patients, that’s all I care about.”

“I’ll do my best. I know he’s been worried about his caseload.”

“Your dad is a great doctor, but he worries too much about his patients,” Tiffany said.

“Is that possible?” Eli asked.

“He should have worried a little more about himself. He could barely stand up the last few weeks before the surgery.”

Tiffany was a bit rough around the edges but like everyone else, she adored Dr. Sanderson and frequently told patients how cool it was that she now worked for the doctor who had delivered her twenty years earlier.

“Your father was so worried about taking time away from his patients he almost didn’t have the surgery, though his specialist has been urging him to for months. At least as long as I’ve been here,” Melissa said.

“Longer,” Carmen said, her expression exasperated. The older woman liked to mother everyone, even their boss, who was at least two or three years older than the office manager.

“I think he would have continued putting it off and hobbling around if he hadn’t injured the right one so badly two weeks ago,” Melissa said. “Then the surgery became not only urgent but imperative.”

“Everything worked out for the best,” Eli said. “I was able to create a gap in my schedule and here I am, at least for a few weeks.”

Yes. Here you are.

She had thought him gorgeous in skintight workout clothes. That was nothing compared to the sight of him in khaki slacks, a white exam coat and a crisply ironed button-down shirt a few shades lighter than his blue eyes.

She had been a nurse for years and had never been particularly drawn to a physician, until right this moment.

“How’s the wrist?” he asked.

At his words, the pain she had been staving off seemed to rush back. She held up the brace and wriggled her fingers. “Still aches but it’s bearable. I agree with you that I should hold off a day or two before I have it x-rayed.”

“Did you have any time to put ice on it?”

“A few minutes. Which is the main reason I’m late.”

“Good. That’s the best thing you can do.”

They lapsed into silence and she tried to keep from gawking at him. She loved her job, working with Wendell Sanderson. The man had been nothing but kind to her since the day she’d come back to Cannon Beach. She hated thinking things would be awkward and uncomfortable with Eli here.

She could handle anything for a few weeks, Melissa reminded herself. Even working for a man for whom she had developed a serious thirst.

“Can you give me the charts of those who have appointments today? I’d like to try familiarizing myself with their files.”

His words were directed to Carmen yet still provided Melissa the reminder she needed. He was her boss and she couldn’t forget that.

“I’ve already pulled the charts of those coming in this morning. They’re on your dad’s desk, since I figured you would be setting up in there,” the office manager replied. “I’ll find the rest and bring them in for you.”

“Thank you.” He gave the woman a polite smile, and Melissa could swear she felt her ovaries melt.

When he walked back down the hallway toward his office, Melissa slumped into one of the chairs in the waiting room.

Oh, this was not good. At all. She might have silently wished for a man this morning, but in truth she didn’t have time for that kind of complication. She had Skye and work and friends, not to mention the online classes she was taking to work toward her nurse practitioner license. There was no room left for her to be stupid about Eli.

“Are you okay?” Carmen asked.

“I will be.”

Eventually.

“He seems nice, doesn’t he?” Tiffany said. “Dr. Sanderson talks about his son like all the time, but I always pictured him different, somehow. Since he’s in the army, I thought he’d have a buzz cut and be all harsh and by the book.”

She hadn’t pictured him at all, hadn’t really given Eli Sanderson much thought over the years. Now she was afraid she would be able to think about little else.

Even her throbbing wrist couldn’t seem to distract her.

* * *

“How did your first day go? Any problems or unique diagnoses you think I need to know about?”

Eli adjusted his dad’s pillow, giving him a stern look. “Your only job right now is to focus on healing from this surgery. I can take care of your patients, got it? You don’t need to worry about them.”

“I have no concerns on that front,” Wendell assured him. “You’re a better doctor than I ever could have dreamed of being at your age.”

Eli knew that was far from true. How could it be? His own dreams were haunted by the ghosts of all those he couldn’t save. Miri. Justine. Those ghosts at least had names and faces, but there were scores of others who drifted through, anonymous and lost.

He let out a breath, wondering when the hell the sense of guilt and loss would leave him. It had been six months but still felt like yesterday.

He turned his attention back to his father, instead of that war-battered market town.

“Dad, I could never be half the doctor you are. We both know that. I’ll be trying my whole life to catch up.”

His father rolled his eyes. “We could be here all day patting each other on the back, but I know what I know. And what I know is that you’re a damn fine doctor and I’m proud to call you my son. There’s no one else on earth I would trust more than you to fill in for me while I’m laid up. When I ask about my patients, it’s only because I’m concerned about them, not because I don’t think you can care for them the way I would.”

His father had been the best doctor Eli knew. Wendell and his genuine concern for his patients had been the main reason Eli had gone to medical school in the first place. He had wanted to help people, to deliver babies and diagnose illnesses and give little kids their first shots.

He had never expected that his first years of practicing medicine would be in a series of emergency shelters and refugee camps, but that was the path he had chosen and he couldn’t regret it.

“If I’m not mistaken, that sweet Julia Garrett was supposed to come in today for a prenatal checkup. She and Will had an early-term miscarriage during her last pregnancy, so I’ve been watching her closely. How did things look today?”

Though he instinctively wanted to tell his father to put all his patients out of his head, Eli knew that wouldn’t happen. Wendell wanted to stay current on all the people he had cared for over thirty-five years of practicing in Cannon Beach. Eli had a feeling that was the only way his father would be able to endure the long recovery from his double knee replacement.

“Everything looked good today. The baby measured exactly where she should be at this stage in the pregnancy, the heartbeat sounded strong and steady, and Julia appears healthy and happy. She didn’t report any unusual concerns.”

“Oh, that’s good. This is her fourth pregnancy—fifth, if you count the baby they lost and sixth if you count the fact that her first were twins—and I wanted her to feel confident and comfortable.”

As far as Eli was concerned, his father was the iconic family physician. Wendell was dedicated to his patients, compassionate over their troubles and driven to provide them the best possible care. He had delivered some of his own patients—like Will Garrett—and was now delivering the second generation and providing care over their children.

Those patients had saved his father, plucking him out of the deep depression Wendell had fallen into after Eli’s mother died following a short but hard-fought battle against breast cancer when Eli was twelve.

They had both been devastated and had dealt with the blow in different ways. Eli had retreated into books, withdrawing from his friends, from baseball, from social activities. His father had done the same, focusing only on his patients and on his son.

The pain of losing Ada Sanderson had eased over the years but hadn’t left completely. Eli suspected it never would.

“And how are you, son? I mean, how are you really? You haven’t talked about what happened with that friend of yours, but I know it still eats at you.”

The question, so intuitive, seemed to knock his own knees out from under him. It had always seemed impossible to conceal his inner struggles from his father’s gimlet gaze. Still, Eli did his best. He had never told Wendell how close he had been to Justine, or how her death and Miri’s had been his fault.

Somehow he managed to summon an expression he hoped resembled a smile. “I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a beautiful time of year to be home in Oregon. I don’t remember the last April I was here. I’m not sure what I’m looking forward to more—watching the spring storms churning across the water or savoring the explosion of flowers.”

Wendell saw right through him, as usual. His father gave him a searching look even as he shifted on his hospital bed to find a more comfortable position.

“After all the exotic places the army has sent you, are you sure you won’t be bored out of your mind treating cold sores and high blood pressure?”

“No. I’m looking forward to that, too, if you want the truth. It will be a nice, calm change of pace. Just what I need to decompress.”

“Maybe this will help you figure out whether you’re going to stay in the military or settle down somewhere and open a practice. Or maybe join a practice that’s already busy with tourists and locals alike.”

Since the day Eli finished his residency, Wendell had been after him to become his partner here.

It had always been in his long-range plan, but how could he walk away now, with this heavy sense of responsibility he carried everywhere? He felt the weight of it even more on his shoulders now, after what happened to Justine. She had been dedicated, compassionate, completely driven to help those in turmoil. Her dedication had been silenced forever and she could no longer carry out her work. He had made a vow to carry on in her place.

“Tell me how they have been treating you here,” he said to change the subject. “Have you already charmed all the nurses?”

“Not all of them. A few of these nurses have been coming to my office since they were children. I’m afraid they know all my tricks by now.”

Wendell was regaling him with a story about the surgeon who had operated on him when Eli heard a slight knock on the door.

A moment later, it was pushed open, and a delicate-looking girl of about seven held the door open while cradling a huge cellophane-wrapped basket in the other.

“Hi, Dr. Sanderson,” she said cheerfully, giving his father a winsome smile.

Wendell beamed back at her. “Well, hello there, my dear. Isn’t this a lovely surprise?”

She gave a grin, missing her two front teeth, and held up the basket. “This is for you. My mom was busy talking to her friend at the nurses station and I got tired of waiting for her, so I told her I would come by myself. This thing is heavy.”

“Eli, help my friend Skye out and take that big basket from her before her arms break right off, will you?”

He dutifully rose so he could take the basket out of the girl’s arms and set it on the small table next to his father’s bed.

While he was occupied, the girl stole his chair, the one right next to Wendell’s bedside.

“That stuff is all for you” she said, pointing to the basket. “Even the candy. My mom and I went shopping in three different stores, trying to find all the things you love.”

“That is so sweet of you. Your mother is a treasure and so are you, my dear.”

She giggled. “My grandma says I’m a pill and too big for my britches.”

“I don’t doubt that’s true,” Wendell said.

The girl turned to Eli with a curious look. “Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m Skye Fielding. What’s your name?”

When she identified herself, he gave her a closer look. Skye Fielding. This had to be Melissa’s daughter. He should have picked up the resemblance before she even identified herself. Now he could see she shared the same vivid green eyes with her mother and the same dimple that appeared and disappeared on one side of her mouth.

“This is my son, Elias Alexander Sanderson.”

“Whoa. That’s a big name. It’s...” She counted on her small fingers. “Ten syllables.”

Yes. He was fully aware. Try filling out all those letters on military forms designed for guys named Joe Smith. “You can call me Eli,” he said.

“Hi, Eli.” She settled deeper into his chair, perfectly at home, which he found more amusing than anything he’d seen in a long time. With nowhere else to sit in the room, he leaned against the sink.

“Mom says you got brand-new knees because your old ones hurt you all the time,” she said.

“Old is the key word there,” Wendell muttered.

His father wasn’t that old. He was only in his early sixties and vibrant for his age. Why hadn’t Wendell started dating and married someone? His father was still a handsome man. Judging by all the flowers and cards in his room, he was fairly popular around town, too. Maybe Eli could work on that while he was home.

“My mom says you have to stay here for two whole weeks!”

She seemed positively aghast at the idea.

“It’s not that bad. They have fun things to do all day long. Games and movies and music time. Plus, they serve good food and have free popcorn in the cafeteria.”

Eli had a feeling Wendell was trying to convince himself as much as he was the little girl. His father wasn’t thrilled about the time that loomed ahead of him in the rehabilitation center, but that was the price for his impatience and desire to do both knees at the same time, when he needed daily therapy and his house wasn’t fully accessible.

“Free popcorn! You’re lucky. I love popcorn.”

“So do I, but if I eat all the free popcorn, I might have a tough time getting back on my feet.”

“I guess.” She appeared to consider that. “Do you think I could have some now?”

Wendell laughed. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask your mom. Where do you think she is?”

“Probably still talking to her friend,” Skye said.

A moment later, as if to prove her daughter wrong, Melissa appeared in the doorway, looking slightly frazzled.

He had seen her three times that day, in three different wardrobe changes.

This morning on the beach, she had been wearing running clothes—leggings and a comfortable-looking hoodie, with her hair up in a ponytail. All day he had been aware of her moving around the office in burgundy-colored scrubs and a black cardigan. Tonight, Melissa had changed into jeans and a soft coral sweater and had let her hair down to curl around her shoulders.

He wasn’t sure which version he found more attractive. It was a little like being asked to choose among his favorite ice cream flavors.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, slightly breathless, with a stern look to her daughter. “Here you are. I didn’t know where you went. I was busy talking to Jan and when I turned around, you had completely disappeared.”

He could still see the shadows of unease in her expression and felt a wave of sympathy. He didn’t have children, but he knew that panicked feeling of not being able to find someone you cared for deeply. He had a flashback of running through a panicked crowd, everyone else screaming and trying to escape the market center while he ran toward the chaos and fear. He closed his eyes, trying to scrub it away and return to the moment.

“I told you two times I was going to carry the basket to room forty-one,” Skye informed her mother. “I guess you just didn’t hear me.”

More of Melissa’s fear seemed to seep away and she hugged her child. “I’m sorry, honey. Jan is an old friend of mine from nursing school. I didn’t know she was working here. I’m afraid I got a little distracted, catching up with her.”

“My arms were too tired to keep holding the basket, so I found the room and gave it myself to Dr. Sanderson.”

“I see that. Thanks, kiddo.” She ran a hand over her daughter’s hair and the sweet, tender familiarity of the gesture sent an odd lump rising in his throat.

The unexpected emotions intensified when she leaned forward and kissed Wendell on the cheek.

“And how are you? How are the new knees?”

His father shrugged, clearly pleased at the visit from Melissa and her daughter. “I can’t complain. Though I’m not ready to dance the salsa yet, I can tell they’re already less painful than the old ones. They’ll be even better once I break them in.”

“Don’t be in too big of a rush. How many times have I heard you tell your patients that true healing takes time?”

His father made a face. “Do you know how annoying it is to have your own words thrown back in your face?”

She laughed. “It’s for your own good.”

“I know.” He gestured to the brace she wore. “What happened to your wrist?”

Her gaze shifted to Eli, and he thought he saw a soft brush of color soak her cheeks. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say Fiona was in a strange mood this morning and I fell. But it’s feeling much better. Your son checked it out for me.”

Whether she had wanted him to or not. She didn’t say the words, but he had a feeling she was thinking them.

“That’s good to hear. He’s a good boy and an excellent doctor. I’ve been waiting for him to come back so he can meet you.”

Oh, no. That sounded entirely too much like matchmaking. He had to cut that off before Wendell got any inappropriate ideas.

“We’ve met, Dad. You remember. Melissa and I went to high school together for a year, though I’m older. I knew her ex-husband, too.”

“My dad got married again and his wife is going to have a baby.”

Melissa gave her daughter an exasperated look, and Eli had the feeling she wasn’t thrilled with Skye for sharing that particular nugget of information.

“Yes,” she said. “We’re very happy for them both.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Wendell said. “That makes your visit mean even more. A visit would have been enough, you know. You didn’t have to bring along a huge care package, so heavy your strong seven-year-old daughter could barely carry it.”

“It’s only a few things, I promise. The fancy packaging always makes baskets look bigger than they are.”

Except for that fleeting glance, she seemed to be avoiding looking at him directly. Why? Had he done something wrong that day in the office? There had been a little awkwardness early on, but Eli had thought by the end of the day they had started to establish a bit of a comfortable rhythm.

Skye nudged the basket closer to Wendell. “Open it. I want to see if you like the stuff we picked out.”

“I’m sure I will love everything. It came from you, so of course I will.” He smiled at the girl, who beamed back at him.

His father’s rapport with both Melissa and her daughter didn’t surprise him. Wendell loved people, one reason his staff adored him and his patients returned to him for generations.

“Go on,” Skye pressed. “Open it.”

He helped his father out by setting the basket on Wendell’s lap, then watched as his father went through the contents. There was nothing elaborate, but all the gifts seemed thoughtful and sweet—a paperback mystery he knew Wendell would adore, a book of crossword puzzles, a box of chocolates and a bag of lemon drops, a journal, a soft-looking knit throw that would feel perfect on chilly spring mornings.

His father was delighted with all of it.

“Thank you so very much,” he said after he had unearthed each new delight. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you both in my life?”

“We’re the lucky ones,” Melissa said with a smile.

“I don’t have a grandpa and he doesn’t have a grandkid, so Dr. Wendell said we can both pretend we belong to each other,” Skye informed Eli.

It warmed his heart that Melissa appeared to watch out for his father. She struck him as someone who couldn’t help caring about others. He had witnessed it all day. Even with her own injured wrist, she had been kind and caring to each patient they had seen.

“What are you two up to tonight, besides coming here and making my day?” Wendell asked them.

“We’re going to have pizza,” Skye informed him. “It’s Friday and we always have pizza on Friday. Sometimes we make it ourselves and sometimes we order it from a pizza place and sometimes we go out. Tonight we’re going out.”

“Nice. Where are you heading?”

“We’re going to A Slice of Heaven.”

“Oh, good choice,” Wendell said. “It’s one of my favorites. Have you been there yet, son?”

Considering Eli had only been back in town for thirty-six hours and had been working or sleeping for most of that time—or visiting his father—hitting all the local hot spots hadn’t exactly been on his priority list. “Not yet.”

“You can’t miss it. Trust me,” his father said.

“You could come with us,” Skye offered with that charmer of a smile. “Mom says maybe we can even get cheesy bread. They have the best cheesy bread.”

“It’s been a long day,” Melissa said, a trace of defiance in her voice. “I need a few carbs to the rescue.”

He wanted to suggest she also might need to rest and ice her wrist, but he didn’t want to stand in the way of a girl and her carbs.

His father shifted on the bed and yawned, his mouth drawn and his eyes clouding with exhaustion.

“We should go,” Melissa said, picking up the hint. “Come on, Skye.”

“Do you have to?” Wendell said, though Eli heard the exhaustion in his voice.

“I should go, too, so you can get some rest. That’s the best thing for you, in case your doctor hasn’t mentioned it.”

“He has,” Wendell said glumly. “I hate being in this hospital bed.”

“You know what they say about doctors making the worst patients. Try to behave yourself. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

His father rolled over, and Eli could tell he was already dozing off. He followed Melissa and her daughter out of the room.

“That was thoughtful of you, bringing a care package to my father,” he said when they were out in the hallway. “It obviously touched him.”

“Dr. Sanderson has been nothing but kind to us since we moved back to town. It’s the very least we can do, giving him a few things to help him pass the time while he’s laid up. He’s a wonderful man, your father.”

“He is.”

“Seriously. I’ve worked with a lot of jerk doctors in my day and your father is a breath of fresh air, as compassionate to his staff as he is to his patients.”

“It’s always good to hear my own opinion confirmed by those who work closely with him.”

“Not gonna lie. He’s my favorite of all the doctors I’ve ever worked with. You have big shoes to fill.”

“My feet will never fit in those shoes. Why do you think I haven’t come home before now to try? I just have to do my best to stumble along as best I can while I’m here.”

That was probably more revealing than he intended, at least judging by the probing look Melissa sent his way. He opted to change the subject. “So you’re off to have pizza?”

“Yep. Like I said, we always have pizza on Friday night,” Skye told him. “Pizza on Friday, Tacos on Tuesday. The rest of the time, we like to mix things up.”

He found it charming that she included herself in the meal-planning process. As precocious as the girl seemed, he wouldn’t be surprised if she could fix a gourmet meal all by herself, given the chance.

“That’s good. You wouldn’t want to be too predictable.”

“What are you having for dinner?” Skye asked him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t crossed that bridge yet. Unfortunately, I do not have a pizza-on-Friday tradition, but it sounds good.”

More than likely, he would head back to his father’s house and make a sandwich or heat up a TV dinner—neither of which sounded very appetizing compared to the carbtastic wonders of A Slice of Heaven.

“You could come with us,” Skye suggested.

He glanced at Melissa, who looked taken aback by the invitation. She didn’t seem crazy about the idea, yet Eli was surprised at how very much he wanted to accept. The idea of eating alone again at his father’s house held no appeal.

“I don’t want to impose on your night out together.”

“We eat together every night,” Skye said. “Besides, pizza always tastes better when it’s shared. It’s a scientific fact. Anyway, that’s what my mom says.”

“Funny. I don’t remember learning about that in school.”

He sent a sidelong look to Melissa, who shrugged and blushed at the same time.

“You must have missed the breakthrough study. Plus, when you share a pizza, the calories don’t count.”

“Good to know. I wasn’t aware.”

“But you’ve probably had a long day,” she said. “Don’t let us pressure you into it.”

He should gracefully back out of it. She didn’t want him there anyway. But he found he wasn’t willing to do it. He wanted pizza and he wanted to spend more time with her. Neither craving was necessarily good for him, but that didn’t seem to matter.

“I haven’t had pizza from A Slice of Heaven in years. Now that you’ve planted that seed, I’m afraid nothing else will do except that. Thank you for inviting me.”

She paused, then gave a smile that seemed only a little forced. “Great. Do you remember where the pizza parlor is?”

“I could probably find it in my sleep. I’ll meet you there.”

“See you.” Skye tugged on her mom’s hand. “Let’s go. I’m starving!”

She followed her daughter out of the rehab center, and he watched them go for a moment before following closely behind.

As delicious as the wood-fired pizza was at the beloved seaside pizzeria, he found Melissa and her daughter even more appealing.

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