out. Now it was dusk.
“Sorry to intrude, but I’ve been knocking for a while. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
At the sound of Sam’s voice, she turned back. He was little more than a silhouette, his face unreadable in the shadows. Shoving her hair back, she peered at her watch in the dim light. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No. Is it all right if I turn on a light?”
“Sure.”
He felt along the wall, then flicked on the switch. The lamp on the dresser came on, bathing the room in a mellow glow.
Blinking, Cara tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I only planned to take a quick nap. And I can’t imagine why I didn’t hear your knock.” She slept so lightly these days that the slightest sound brought her instantly awake—and alert.
“When did you last have a block of uninterrupted sleep?”
“I don’t know.” More to the point, when had she last felt safe enough to indulge in a block of uninterrupted sleep?
“Considering what you went through, that’s not unusual. Stress can cause insomnia, and that, in turn, often leads to more stress. It can become a vicious cycle that results in a serious anxiety disorder.” He waited, as if giving her a chance to comment. To her relief, he didn’t push when she ignored the overture. “In any case, let’s hope you can break that cycle while you’re here. I think you made a good start tonight. Are you hungry?”
She was surprised to discover that she was. Her appetite had been another casualty of the trauma. “Yes. Give me a minute.”
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He closed the door behind him.
In view of the late hour, she did no more than run a brush through her hair and touch up her lipstick. Nevertheless, by the time she joined him he’d already put plates and utensils on the oak table. When she paused in the doorway, he was removing a steaming plate of chicken and broccoli from the microwave.
He looked good, she thought, taking a moment to observe him before he noticed her. Sam hadn’t often worn jeans in Philadelphia, but she’d always liked the way they emphasized his long, lean legs. And his blue knit sport shirt not only matched his eyes, it accentuated the width of his shoulders and his broad chest. There were more glints of silver than she remembered in his short, sandy hair. But that just gave him a distinguished air. The cobalt blue of his eyes hadn’t changed, though the fine lines around them were new. As were the faint grooves at the corners of his mouth. It seemed the past thirteen months hadn’t been easy on him, either.
A smile warmed his face when he spotted her. “That was fast.” He set the plate next to a bowl of rice. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water will be fine.” He was still wearing his wedding ring, she realized, her gaze riveted to his hand. Just as she was. Somehow, she hadn’t expected that.
Returning to the counter, he slid a plate of what looked like Mongolian beef into the microwave, closed the door and punched some buttons. Then he retrieved a glass from the cabinet. “This will be ready in a couple of minutes. Have a seat.”
“I hope I didn’t delay your dinner too long.” She slid into her chair.
“Not a problem.”
“You always were a late eater.” She thought about the days when it hadn’t been uncommon for him to wolf down dinner at nine or ten o’clock at night, then head for his study to do a couple more hours of paperwork before turning in.
“Not anymore.” He deposited her glass on the table.
Surprised, she angled a look up at him. “Why not?”
“I ate late in those days because that was the only time I could fit it in. The pace here is quite a bit slower. Oak Hill isn’t Philly, and family practice isn’t surgery. Go ahead and help yourself.”
Cara watched as he retrieved the beef from the microwave and joined her at the table. His new life sounded quite a bit different from his old one, and she was curious about it. But if she wanted to keep things simple, it was best to avoid personal topics.
As he reached for the bowl of rice, Cara bowed her head. He paused, waiting until she finished her silent prayer of thanks before filling his plate.
“I’m surprised you continue to find comfort in that after all that’s happened,” he remarked.
Hearing none of the expected sarcasm, she gave him an honest reply. “Now more than ever.”
At her quiet response, he sent her a questioning look but remained silent.
“I take it you never got into the habit?” She scooped out some rice.
“I’m even less inclined now…after all that’s happened.”
“Times of trauma are often when we need Him the most,” Cara suggested, keeping her tone conversational as she dipped into the Mongolian beef.
“Maybe.”
Given his noncommittal reply, Cara decided a change of subject was in order. They never had meshed in their views of faith, and there was no reason to suppose they’d start now. In the beginning of their marriage, Sam had gone to church with Cara because he’d recognized the important role it played in her life. But it had never had the same meaning for him. And as their relationship faltered, she’d found herself attending church alone more and more often. Though it saddened her that he’d never connected with the Lord, his life was no longer her concern. She needed to remember that.
“Why don’t you tell me how you’ve positioned my visit to your friends here, so we can be sure our stories are straight.” She was curious to hear his answer in light of the fact that he was still wearing his ring.
Sam thought about her question. He didn’t have any friends in Oak Hill, not in the way she meant. Just patients and a few acquaintances. “I said you’d taken a leave after going far too long without a vacation, and that you needed a quiet place to relax and unwind,” he replied, choosing his words with care. “I mentioned that we’re separated but friendly. I know that’s stretching the truth a bit, but short of getting into a lot of history I doubt either of us wants to dredge up, that was the easiest way to explain it.”
“That works for me.”
Relieved, he ladled a spoonful of the chicken and broccoli onto his plate. “What did you tell your family?”
“That I’d be out of town for a bit. Everyone has my cell number, and that’s how they always call me. Besides, Mom and Dad are in Africa for a year on a mission trip, so all our communication is by e-mail anyway.”
“Liz mentioned that.”
Tilting her head, Cara looked at him, wondering what else Liz had told him. “Did she fill you in on Bev?”
“She just said your sister and her family are getting ready to move. And that Bev is pregnant.
