The Doctor and the Single Mom Page 4

  “The closest one is over seventy miles away. And she’s only seven months along.”

  “How do you know that?”

  A wry expression chased away the concern for a moment. “This isn’t my first time here in the parlor.”

  “Right. Ice cream obsession.” She nodded.

  He moved to the lower counter where the cash register was located and braced a hip against it as he ate. “Why did her brother take her? Where’s her husband?”

  “He was in the army. Killed in Afghanistan. She found out not long ago.” And obviously hadn’t shared the information with a stranger, even if he was a doctor and a regular customer.

  “Damn it. I don’t even know what to say. That...” Adam jammed his plastic spoon into the ice cream and set it down. He shook his head and the sympathy in his eyes was wrapped in an anger that looked sincere. “It just sucks.”

  “I know.”

  “The shock could have brought on early labor,” he said. “I hope not. Baby’s still small.”

  “She’s pretty upset,” Jill confirmed.

  “So you’re filling in.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” she said. “Maggie and Dan built this business from scratch. I’ve known them both since we were all in kindergarten together. They were high school sweethearts. He was the love of her life and my good friend. No one can bring him back, but if there’s anything I can do to save his child, I’ll do it. And keeping this place alive is as much for him as for Maggie.”

  “It’s a wonderful gesture.”

  There was a hint of surprise in his voice that Jill resented. Or maybe she just took exception to him, however unfair that was. Or it could be her reaction was more about looking for a reason to keep up a robust level of mad to squash or squeeze out the stubborn attraction to him that she couldn’t seem to shake.

  Whatever her motivation, there was an edge to her voice when she said, “Friends are there for each other.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” His voice had an edge, too, and the words clearly indicated he hadn’t missed the underlying meaning in her words. There was a spark of anger in his blue eyes that had nothing to do with loss from a war halfway around the world and everything to do with conflict between the two of them. “And I’ll look forward to someone being there for me when I have more than one friend in town.”

  “You actually have one now?” she asked, leaning a hip on the other side of the counter.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Cabot Dixon and I go way back to my summer camp days. His father’s ranch is where my parents sent me, and we hit it off.”

  “C.J. and Tyler are good buddies,” she said.

  “I wondered. Cab brought the boy in and I noticed that he’s the same age.”

  “Hope it was nothing serious.”

  “No.” Adam shook his head. “But because of patient privacy laws I can’t say more than that.”

  “Don’t break any rules on my account.”

  “Not to worry. But there is something I plan to do on your account.”

  “Don’t do me any favors.”

  “Actually it’s me I’m concerned about.” He picked up his ice cream again and started eating. “It seems the people here in town are all very protective of you. To win their hearts and minds I need to prove myself to you, earn your friendship. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “Good luck with that.” She struggled for a flip attitude but was pretty sure it didn’t work, what with her heart pounding so hard. “I’ve built up an immunity to nice, charming men.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not nice or charming.” He finished the last of his sundae and dropped the cup and spoon in the trash.

  Suddenly Jill realized he hadn’t paid for it. “I forgot to ring up that ice cream. Some friend I am. That’s no way to mind Maggie’s store.”

  He reached into his jeans pocket and slid out some folded bills. After pulling one from the wad, he put it on the counter and said, “Keep the change.” Then he met her gaze and said, “Jill?”

  She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. “What?”

  “I’m really not the devil.”

  She’d have to take his word on that because right now she was pretty sure he was. He tempted her just by walking in and breathing the same air. Technically he lived right above her and probably they were trading oxygen and carbon monoxide all night long. That could do a number on her if she thought about it too long.

  So she wouldn’t think about it, and no way was friendship a possibility. Men and women couldn’t be friends. More often than not, it went bad. She didn’t need any more bad in her life than she’d already had.

  Chapter Three

  It was Saturday and Adam didn’t know what to do with his first real weekend off since moving to Blackwater Lake. He wandered around the apartment that grew on him more every day. The boxes were gone, stuff was put away and pictures were hung. They weren’t as soul-stunning as Jill’s, but he planned to take his own photos and get some shots that were wall-worthy.

  His computer was hooked up and on the desk in the second bedroom he was using as a home office. Medical books and a few fiction paperbacks were stacked on the floor, and he could use some bookcases. A trip to the antiques and furniture stores in town could fill some time today.

  Then he looked out the living room window with a view of the lake. There was a small wooden building nearby with a sign that read Blackwater Lake Marina and Bait Shop. It was about time he explored his new hometown, starting with what was right in his own backyard.

  He grabbed his keys, locked the front door, then jogged down the stairs to the covered porch. Beside Jill’s door sat a pair of C.J.-sized muddy sneakers and a small baseball mitt. Just a guess but both probably belonged to the little guy who lived downstairs. Thoughts of the redheaded rascal made him smile and he wondered what the kid was up to on a day off from school. Hopefully hanging out with Tyler Dixon on the ranch where a kid could be a kid. Adam wouldn’t trade his time there for anything. And what C.J. did was none of his business since his redheaded, red-hot mom had warned him off.

  He walked down the path and turned right, heading for the marina store. A few minutes later he stepped onto the wooden walkway outside. A few yards from the door, the dock jutted into the lake, a small number of boats tied up on either side.

  He entered the store and waited for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine outside. Bending over a box, Jill had her back to the door and was restocking the tall, refrigerated case with bottled water. Before she straightened he had time to look his fill and conclude that she did have one terrific tush.

  And that kind of thinking was to his goal what the iceberg was to the Titanic. To win over the people of Blackwater Lake, he had to be her friend, nothing more.

  “Mom?” That was C.J.’s voice.

  Adam moved a step farther inside and saw the kid. Racks of souvenir T-shirts had hidden him, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the cold case. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his small, freckled face was cradled in both hands. If he was a photo, Adam would title it Boredom.

  “Mom,” he said again, louder this time.

  “What, kiddo?”

  “Why can’t I go outside?”

  “Because you’re not allowed to play by the lake when there’s no one to watch you. That’s the rule.”

  “It’s a stupid rule. I know how to swim.”

  “True. But better safe than sorry,” she said.

  “I’m already sorry because I can’t go outside.”

  Adam smothered a laugh. This kid was priceless.

  “I wanna go to Ty’s house,” he said, taking a new direction.

  “We’ve been through this already. I have to mind the store, so I can’t drive you.”

/>   “I could call Ty. I bet Mr. Dixon could come and get me, Mom.”

  “He’s busy running his ranch. You shouldn’t bother him,” she said.

  “When’s Brew coming back?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  The kid let out a big sigh. “I don’t got nothin’ to do for a couple hours.”

  “I don’t have anything to do,” she corrected.

  “Then you can drive me to Ty’s.”

  Adam cleared his throat to cover a laugh and let them know he was standing there. “Hi.”

  “Dr. Adam!” C.J. jumped up and ran over.

  “Hi, champ.” He made a fist and the kid did the same and bumped it. Looking at Jill, he said, “Good morning.”

  “How are you?” She brushed the curly red hair off her forehead.

  “Good. Enjoying a day off.”

  “Must be nice,” she said wistfully.

  “It is.”

  He saw the dark circles under her eyes and asked, “Is there any place in town you don’t work?”

  She laughed, which was a nice surprise. “Potter’s Parlor was for Maggie, but this store is mine.”

  “Interesting place,” he said, glancing around.

  Fishing poles were standing along one wooden wall, and above them was a divided case with lures, sinkers and bait. Another wall had cubbyholes holding hats, and beside it were stacks of ice chests. In the center space were racks of outdoor clothing—quilted vests, flannel shirts, windbreakers and light jackets.

  “Brewster works for me, so I take over when he’s off.”

  “Who takes over when you’re off?”

  “It’s not an issue.”

  The subtext was that she never had time off. But there wasn’t any trace of self-pity in her tone or expression. All he saw was strength and pride. The combination made her stunning, the kind of woman he wanted to get to know better.

  He started to say something but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden walkway outside just before three men came into the store. They were all about the same age, in their late fifties or early sixties.

  Jill smiled. “Welcome to Blackwater Lake.”

  Adam listened to the conversation and figured out that these guys were strangers to her, new to the area and looking for fishing gear. Jill led them to the wall with rods and reels, then began answering their questions regarding the pros and cons of each type and its relation to their skill level.

  While she was preoccupied with customers and a potentially lucrative sale, her son slipped outside, unnoticed by anyone but Adam. He stood in the store’s doorway and saw C.J. race down to the lake’s edge, then bend to grab a rock and throw it into the water. So much for mom’s rule. And Jill was right to worry about safety around the water.

  Adam walked down the path and stopped beside the boy. He picked up a smooth stone, then flicked his wrist and watched it skip three times before disappearing.

  “Cool,” C.J. said. “How did you learn to do that?”

  “Tyler’s dad showed me when I was just about your age.”

  The boy looked up, squinting into the sun. “Did you live here then?”

  “I only visited during the summer.”

  “Are you and Mr. Dixon friends?”

  “Yes.” So far the only one he had in Blackwater Lake. As far as Jill was concerned, C.J. didn’t count.

  “Can you teach me how to skip rocks?” he asked eagerly.

  “I can show you. Then it’s just practice to get the hang of it.”

  “Forget it, then. I’ll never get good.” C.J. kicked at the rocky shore with the toe of a sneaker. “I’m not s’posed to be here alone. But Mom never has time to watch me.”

  “She has a lot of responsibility.” He could relate. Jill was a single mom, but Adam had two parents, and their demanding careers had left little time to spend with a boy who wanted to play. He’d been turned over to others to be supervised, then spent summers here. As an adult he understood, but thank goodness for those summers. “But I’m here now.”

  “You can watch me?”

  “Yeah.” He picked up another stone and demonstrated the proper way to hold it, between thumb and forefinger. “It’s all in the wrist.”

  C.J. watched as he threw it and said, “Let me try.”

  They worked on the skill for five minutes, which is about all the attention span a six-year-old has. After that the boy used the rocks like a depth charge, aiming for the fish darting around just below the surface.

  “I’m a mighty hunter,” he said, moving so close the water almost lapped over his shoe.

  Adam was ready to grab him if there was a chance he’d fall in. “Do you have a fishing pole?”

  “Not yet. Mom says when I’m seven.”

  “When’s that?”

  “When it gets cold.”

  He remembered Jill telling him that the doctor had left as soon as it turned cold. Had he been there for the kid’s birthday or skipped out before? She’d said she wouldn’t allow her son’s heart to be broken again, which meant he’d already been hurt once. That sucked.

  “Does it hurt the fish when you hook ’em?”

  Probably, Adam thought. But he didn’t want to tell the boy that. The crunch of footsteps behind them saved him from having to answer, but the look on Jill’s face told him he wasn’t saved from anything else.

  “Uh-oh,” C.J. said. “It’s my mom.”

  Uh-oh, indeed.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, C.J.”

  Adam knew from personal experience that the disappointment card was the biggest gun in the parental arsenal. But a safety rule had been broken.

  “Are you mad, Mom?”

  “Do I look mad?” Her voice was deadly quiet and calm. Shouting would have been easier to take.

  C.J. studied her expression. “No?” he asked hopefully.

  She shook her head. “You disobeyed a direct order right after we talked about it.”

  Adam looked from her to C.J., knowing she’d just taken the “I forgot” defense out of play.

  “There has to be consequences, kiddo.”

  “Am I grounded?”

  “I have to think about this,” she said.

  “While you’re thinkin’,” he said, rubbing a finger along the side of his nose, “remember Ty’s birthday party is in a week.”

  “Thank you for reminding me,” she said.

  It was that quiet voice that finally got to Adam. He couldn’t just stand there and say nothing. “Look, Jill, it’s Saturday and the sun is out. Awfully tough for a guy to be cooped up indoors. I was here—”

  “About that,” she said, her tone edging up. She looked at her son. “Run up to the store and get a drink of water, C.J. I need to talk to Adam.”

  For just a second he teetered on the verge of argument, then just nodded. Without a word he trudged back up the path and disappeared through the door to the marina store.

  “Jill, don’t take it out on him. I’m the one you’re really mad at.”

  Her brown eyes darkened with anger. “I made it clear that letting him get attached to you isn’t an option. Water safety isn’t the only issue here. It’s my job to look out for him emotionally, too.”

  “And I made it clear that I wouldn’t hurt him.”

  “Talk is cheap.” The breeze blew a strand of hair across her eyes and she angrily brushed it away.

  “I was just keeping him company—in the spirit of helping someone out,” he said.

  “I don’t need that kind of help. When he gets attached to you and is left behind—”

  “I’m going to be a part of this community where people look out for one another.” He hadn’t planned to defend himself, but hearing about the last doct
or was getting old. “Blackwater Lake is a place where neighbors pitch in. It’s what you did for Maggie. That’s all I was doing with C.J.”

  “I look out for him,” she said.

  “So you can be there for a friend, but I can’t? Smacks of a double standard to me.”

  “That’s because you’re not a single mom.” She nodded for emphasis, then turned away and walked back up the path after her son.

  Adam watched her stiff back and not for the first time he thought she had a little too much spine. Bending a little would do her good, and he was just the guy who could out-stubborn her.

  That’s when it hit him that instead of diminishing his fascination for her, the arm’s length she was trying to put between them just intrigued him more. It was all kinds of bad because relationships were not his specialty. So far he’d been less than successful in staying uninvolved, and one wrong move could cost him the community approval he needed to make this career move and the life he wanted a success.

  Now that he had a diagnosis, it was time to come up with the treatment. So far, he had nothing.

  * * *

  Potter’s Ice Cream Parlor was hosting a fundraiser for Blackwater Lake High School’s football team, and Jill had just finished her two-hour volunteer shift. She was grateful for the break because her hands ached from nonstop scooping. It was standing-room only except for Maggie Potter. Her early labor pains were under control, but she was under obstetrician’s orders to stay off her feet and was sitting at a table for two in the center of the room. Her job was to collect cash donations from folks who were watching their calories but still wanted to help out.

  Jill sat in the empty chair across from her friend. “You should be at home with your feet up.”

  “At least I’m off them.” Maggie was a pretty brunette, petite and fragile-looking. Her beautiful brown eyes were sad and hadn’t lost their haunted look since she’d gotten the news that her husband had died in Afghanistan. “It’s been a week since I saw the doctor, and doing nothing is driving me crazy.”

  “You have to put crazy on a back burner and take care of that baby.”