wanted her son hanging around. The kind that led you on for as long as it suited him and then left with barely a word.
‘I think I have something of yours.’ Low and deep, the murmured words slid over her, his breath ruffling her hair.
She swallowed, then turned to face him, realizing with relief he was talking about Toby and not some sentimental relic from the past. That thought caused a warning prickle behind her eyelids that she forced back with a single harsh blink.
Mark’s hand came out, her son’s small fingers still gripping it like a lamprey. No choice. Her only hope was to try to take possession of him without touching anything but Toby.
Except it ended up being impossible.
In order to take her son’s hand, she was forced to wriggle her fingertips between their palms. Mark’s warm skin sizzled against her icy flesh, and for a split second all three of their hands were sealed together: Hers, Toby’s, and a stranger’s.
The prickle reappeared. Oh, God, she was going to lose it. Right here in front of all these people.
The image of the funny, laid-back boy who’d asked her to be his date for their senior prom—whose desperate kisses had awoken something deep inside her—appeared in the back of her mind. But that person was gone for ever, destroyed when he had announced he was going into the military. That shocking decree had come just weeks after he’d professed his love for her, his face turning a charming shade of red as he’d said the words.
It had all been a lie, however. A way to get her into his bed, because there’d been no promise of a future when he’d left. Just a few tight-jawed words spoken at the front door of her house. Then he had gone. The remembered humiliation of that night still had the power to crush her heart in a giant fist.
The tall, rugged man who’d returned to Dutch Harbor eight years later was indeed a stranger. Flippant, arrogant and who now chased anyone in a skirt.
Anyone but her.
With a start, she realized Mark was now eyeing her, their hands still joined together. She gulped and with a quick move, prised Toby’s hand free. She moved a few steps forward in line, needing to put some distance between her and Mark.
Please let me get through this in one piece.
That tiny prayer seemed doomed the second she sensed the heat from Mark’s body close behind her. Too close.
Ignore him. You’ve done it for the last six months. You can do it now.
Not so easy this time as Toby had twisted around to look, a contented sigh lifting his thin chest. She listened for the warning wheeze, but it didn’t happen. A dose of self-righteous anger whipped up at the deadly charisma her former beau gave off in waves. She would not let him hurt her son the way he’d hurt her.
She leaned down. ‘Just a few more minutes.’ She realized too late those were almost the exact words she’d heard Mark whisper to him earlier.
Thank heavens she hadn’t waited around for Mark’s return. Because he now barely gave her the time of day. And she wasn’t much better. She avoided him whenever she could—not an easy feat on an island like Dutch Harbor—and the only times he’d appeared at the clinic over these last months had been to deliver a tourist who’d gotten a scrape or a bruise.
Her turn to offer her congratulations to the happy couple. Finally!
She pasted on a smile as she reached out her free hand to Blake, the groom. ‘So you went and did it.’ She tried to keep her voice light, but it betrayed her by shaking just the tiniest bit. She pushed on, anyway. ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving the island and taking Molly with you.’ Blake, Mark, and Sammi had joined forces during their childhood days, becoming a kind of mod squad—inseparable and lifelong friends. Those strands were now tattered and worn—she doubted they could ever be woven together again.
Blake laughed, evidently not noticing the strain she was under. ‘I think if Molly had a choice, she’d never leave Dutch Harbor.’
Molly had worked as a doctor at the tiny clinic with Sammi for the last year until her funding had dried up, forcing her to move back to Anchorage. She and Blake had met while doing medevacs and, after a rocky start, realized they were meant for each other. Once she left, Sammi would be stuck doing medical evacuations with Mark, not something she was looking forward to.
Who was she kidding? She was dreading it.
Pausing to gather her thoughts, she tried to keep her mind on the happy couple and off her own problems. ‘Treat her right, Blake. Or I’ll come and find you.’
‘I intend to.’
While Blake squatted to talk to Toby, Sammi moved over to embrace the bride. ‘Be happy,’ she whispered.
‘You too.’
If only it were that easy.
She sensed Blake rise to his feet to greet Mark. At the sound of awkward male hugs—complete with palms delivering a few resounding smacks to the other’s back—she had to fight back a smile.
She tried to tune out their words, but Mark’s ‘You caved, bro’ caught her attention, the wry tone as flip as ever.
The bride’s voice brought her back to the present. ‘Okay, you two, I’m tired and starving.’ She crinkled her nose. ‘And I still have a three-hour flight to Anchorage to get through.’
That drew a laugh from Sammi. Her friend had married a pilot, yet she didn’t like to fly. At all. Talk about opposites attracting. She gave Molly another quick hug. ‘You’ll be fine.’
Molly smiled. ‘I know I will. I just like the extra handholding it gets me.’
Those words made Sammi’s heart ache. Although she was over the moon that her two friends had found each other, she was sad she’d never found that same perfect happiness. Her ex-husband had done his best, but in the end they’d both known it wasn’t meant to be. When Toby had been one, they’d separated. They’d finalized their divorce two weeks before Toby’s second birthday. Her ex, now living in Anchorage, had remarried and was, to all appearances, blissfully happy with his second wife. Even Toby liked her.
A throat cleared behind her, making her jump. She realized she was holding up the line and that Mark couldn’t get around her in the narrow gap between the door and the newly married couple without touching her. Again. The thought made her quake inside. She squeaked out a quick ‘Sorry’.
Then she grabbed Toby’s hand and did the only thing she could think of.
She fled.
CHAPTER TWO
SAMMI pumped the inhaler twice and waited.
Toby, still half-asleep, lay on his back propped in a nest of pillows. The terrifying rattle in his chest slowly eased as the albuterol flooded his lungs, widening his breathing passages to allow more air flow.
As Community Health Aide for the island, she knew better than to panic, but when it was your own son… She closed her eyes. Who could maintain any kind of objectivity under those circumstances?
Not
