He’d been there.
He got back to work. “I’d like to set up a committee. Someone to search for a property the council can’t reject. Someone who has experience or an interest in fundraising. Someone who’s done PR.”
Some of the attendees stirred. Not Emma. He hated being so aware of her. Couples in the crowd spoke to each other. No one volunteered.
“Look.” He took off his jacket and dropped it over the back of his chair at the table beside the podium. “You all know me. I come from a family where violence and anger flourished, but care was—care was almost nonexistent. Maybe that’s why I’m a doctor. I want to take care of people. I believe that we can arrange for every family in this little town to have more immediate care. They deserve it.”
He tugged at his tie.
“If you have a skill you think would benefit the clinic, see me, call me, email or text. I need your help. We all need your help.”
Except Emma, he was thinking as he glanced back at the two Candler women. Megan was already slipping beneath the red letters of the exit sign, but Emma remained, one brow raised as if she were puzzled that Megan had left without speaking.
Just then a number of people rose from their seats and surged to meet him at the podium and volunteer their services. Startled, he took names and numbers and business cards and promises. By the time the last volunteer took her leave, he had a meeting set for the following week to assess their position.
Noah packed everything into his laptop case and cleared paper coffee cups and forgotten notes and his flyers from the tables and floor and gothic window ledges. He straightened chairs and took one last look before he turned off the light and walked out of the room. He tried not to look for Emma, but he failed.
He waited a moment too long to look away, for she lifted her gaze and pulled out her earbuds.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to help,” she said.
He’d never lied to Emma before, but he didn’t want her close. Sure, he’d dated other women in the time she’d been gone. Nurses where he’d done his residency. Skiers, who had no reason to stay in Bliss after their vacations. But Emma still affected him.
“I thought you’d probably rather not be on a committee with me. Besides, you won’t be here long.”
“I can set up a website, social media.” She glanced at her screen. “It all helps get your word out. Someone else can run it after I leave.”
“I’ll find someone to work with you if you’re willing?”
“I am,” she said and picked up her earbuds.
“Not getting along with Megan?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t, wishing she’d been quicker with her music.
“I don’t know her. It feels strange. She’s married to my father. They have this whole life I don’t know about. I don’t even know if I’m welcome.”
“She looks like she’s feeling the same. She’s nice, Emma. She didn’t move to town with an attitude, and she loves your dad. She wants him to be happy, which means she’ll welcome you into their new life.”
Emma’s natural response four years ago was a smile. He didn’t even realize he was waiting to see the sweet, open curve of her mouth until it didn’t come.
“I thought you weren’t looking after anyone except yourself these days.”
“You want to get along if we pass on the street, but you won’t try to be friends,” he said. “Good to know where we really stand.”
“Wait.” She stood, glancing around, but no one left in the library seemed interested in them. “I’m sorry. I do want to be friends, but I’m not sure how we manage that.”
“Neither am I,” he admitted, clamping down on his compulsion to take her hands in his and ease her fingers apart. “For a start, we could trust each other. I know you’re leaving. You know I’m staying. We both know our relationship ended four years ago. We have no ulterior motives.”
“You were talking about my dad in there. All those reasons to turn down the clinic, they’re stodgy and shortsighted.”
“If you mean I was speaking directly to you, I wasn’t. All the council members stand by the old covenants. You know there are towns in these mountains that feature bright lights and big noise. No one wants that here. I don’t want that here, but I want facilities that keep someone like my brother from having to drive almost two hours to get help for a work injury.”
“And you’ve explained that to the council?”
“No one in your dad’s position will listen.” Noah kept in mind the need to rein in his anger. He assumed part of the council’s rejection of his plan was that it came from him, the son of a man who’d put the town in a bad light every time he staggered out of one bar and into another, hitting on young female skiers and begging for change for his next drink.
Now Noah was in the position of begging, and the council seemed to enjoy every opportunity they had to say no to a Gage.
“I can talk to Dad,” Emma said.
“I’m not asking you to do that.” His voice rose, startling her, shaming him. The last thing he wanted was to be aggressive with a woman. In the middle of long dark, lonely nights he felt around his psyche for those instincts. He softened his tone. “I will if I have to, but not yet,” he said. “If you’d set up the media links we could use, I’d be grateful.”
“Okay. I’ll email the information to you. I can get your email address from Owen?”
He pulled a business card from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. “Now, about Megan,” he said.
“I know.” She rubbed her mouth. “I have to stop acting as if she swung into town just to pick Dad’s pockets.”
“You should probably thank her for being willing to live here with him. I hear she was kind of an influential voice in New York.”
“I heard socialite. I just didn’t believe anyone used that word anymore.”
He smiled because she couldn’t hide the bitterness she clearly disliked feeling. At least she felt safe venting to him. “I’ll look forward to your information. Thanks for doing this, Emma.”
“You’re welcome.” She picked up her own laptop case, and slipped his card into a pocket. He left while she was packing the rest of her things.
* * *
IN THE GRIP of an overgrown crepe myrtle she was trying to prune, Emma heard tires on the gravel drive. She twisted, hoping not to see Noah. She didn’t recognize anyone’s car sounds anymore. Struggling against the pull of the bony branches in her hair, she turned to set the shears on the ground and tried to unthread herself.
Too bad Owen wasn’t working today. He’d had some super-secret trip to a city in the big world.
A low-slung, silver vehicle turned on the gravel, slinging a few rocks upward.
