great as her own. Perhaps her bitterness had started long ago while listening to her father go on and on about the man, about how Sloan loved Bloomberg and its people almost as much as Preston himself did, about how Sloan tirelessly gave of himself to the town, that watching Sloan was like a flashback to himself thirty years before, except that he’d been married. Of course, her father had joked, Bloomberg’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t still single because of a lack of trying on many a female’s part.
Sloan. Sloan. Sloan. Gag. Gag. Gag.
Dr. Sloan Trenton could do no wrong in her father’s eyes and, deep down, Cara resented that. Although he’d loved her, she had never achieved that complete admiration because she’d had too much of her mother’s love of the big city in her blood, too much of her mother’s resentment of how much Bloomberg stole from their lives, and her father couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand.
She’d had enough of her father in her to love medicine, but she hadn’t been willing to have her life light snuffed out by the demanding town that had taken its toll on her family. Give her the anonymity of the big-city emergency room any day of the week.
She huffed out an exasperated breath.
The tall, lean object of her animosity couldn’t have heard her sigh, not over the chatter in the crowded funeral home and the distance that separated them, but Sloan turned as if she had called out his name. Filled with concern, his coppery brown gaze connected to hers and held, despite the men still talking to him as if he was focused solely on them.
She narrowed her eyes in dislike, not caring what he thought of her, not caring about anything except the gaping crater in her broken heart. She focused all her negative energy toward him, as if he were somehow to blame for her loss, as if he could have prevented her father from dying. Logically, she knew he couldn’t have.
Sloan’s handsome features drew tight. He looked almost as exhausted as she felt. But she didn’t like him, didn’t want him there. Everything about him disturbed her.
Had from the moment she’d opened the door to find him standing on her front porch yesterday during the midst of her major boo-hoo fest. She’d have hated anyone to see her that way, but she especially hated that her father’s beloved prodigy had witnessed her meltdown.
Currently, one of his coal-dark brows arched in acknowledgement of her enmity, no doubt questioning her dislike. Why not? Obviously, he was well loved within the community. Her father had sure loved him. The townspeople loved him. With his inky black hair, those amazing eyes, handsome face and a body that, despite her doom-and-gloom mental state, she had to admit belonged on a television hunk rather than a small-town doctor, women loved him. Why would he expect anything less than adoration from her?
“Oh, Cara, your dad is going to be so missed at the hospital,” Julie Lewis, Cara’s closest friend during grade school, sympathized, plopping down next to her on the long wooden front pew and wrapping her in a tight hug.
Cara leaned her head on her longtime friend’s shoulder, grateful for the excuse to break eye contact with Sloan. Julie’s light, flowery perfume filled Cara’s nostrils with memories of when they’d first started wearing makeup and perfume. Her friend still wore the same honeysuckle scent as she’d worn throughout high school.
“I can’t imagine not hearing his booming voice in the hospital hallways,” Julie continued, shaking her head in slow denial, her long brunette curls tickling the side of Cara’s face.
Cara remembered reading something online about Julie working in the hospital lab as a phlebotomist.
“This town has truly lost one of its greatest.”
“Truly,” Cara agreed, soaking in the remembered warmth of her childhood friend. She’d grown up with this woman and yet these days Julie was a virtual stranger. Other than the occasional message or post on social media, she’d pretty much lost touch with her Bloomberg friends years ago during medical school. She’d been so crazy busy, making sure she distanced herself from everything Bloomberg, making sure she’d aced everything she’d done so as not to disappoint her father.
Only she’d been the biggest disappointment of all when she’d opted not to return to Bloomberg to practice.
He’d just not understood her love of the big city and the excitement that flowed through her veins at working in emergency medicine in the Big Apple. Then again, he’d never understood her mother’s broken heart at leaving the big city, either. Cara only did from having spent many hours reading her mother’s diaries. She’d clung to those handwritten pages of her mother pouring her heart out as a link to a woman she mostly remembered from photos.
“Poor Sloan.” Her friend’s attention turned to the man standing near her father’s casket. He’d been there all evening. “He’s taken this so hard.”
Cara’s lips pursed. Of course he had. Because he was the son her father had never had. Ugh. She really didn’t like the bitterness flowing through her. Anyone who knew her would say she was a positive person, a regular little Miss Sunshine most of the time. But her disposition toward Sloan could only be described as thunderous.
“He idolized Preston.”
“No doubt,” Cara agreed, in as neutral a voice as she could muster. No one need know of her dislike of Sloan. She wouldn’t be here but a few days, then she’d leave Bloomberg forever. Let Sloan give himself to the townspeople to the sacrifice of all else in his life. Cara could give all those matchmakers a hundred and one reasons why they should keep looking elsewhere. A man as devoted to this town as her father had been was admirable but didn’t bode well for his wife and kids.
“Rex said Sloan wouldn’t leave Preston, that he rode in the ambulance to the hospital, worked alongside the paramedics, stayed in the hospital with him long after he’d been pronounced.” Her gaze softened as she looked at the handsome but tired-appearing man being hugged by yet another little old lady. “Poor, poor Sloan,” Julie sympathized.
Guilt hit Cara. The man had been there for her father, had tried to resuscitate him, had apparently gotten a heartbeat restarted with CPR, but his damaged heart hadn’t been able to sustain a rhythm.
No doubt the stress of the past few days was taking its toll and that’s why she felt such irritation toward a man who was obviously a paragon of the community and whom her father had loved. Shame on her.
She didn’t usually dislike someone so thoroughly and intensely. Actually, she didn’t usually dislike someone, period. That was an honor Sloan Trenton held all on his own.
“He coaches Rex Junior’s little-league team, you know.”
No, Cara hadn’t known.
“And is an assistant pack leader with the Tiger Cubs.”
Gee, did he also wear a red cape and tights with a big S on the chest? Not that he wouldn’t look good in tights. She might not like him but she wasn’t blind to the man’s physical attributes. Which perhaps made her dislike him all the more. Why couldn’t he at least have been ordinary rather than having those amazing coppery eyes and a smile that would leave most Hollywood beaus green with envy?
“THAT’S WONDERFUL,” CARA said to her friend, instead of expressing her immediate thought. Just a few days then she’d never
