have envied Jaclyn her fancy shoes—they were the kind Lisa loved but said she could never wear in Hope.
“This is Hokey Ville, Kent.” Three years later and Lisa’s accusing voice would not be silenced. “You said we wouldn’t stay. You promised we’d go back to Dallas.”
A promise he’d made but never kept.
Uncomfortable with the memory of his betrayal, Kent clenched his jaw. Rescuing Jaclyn from that burning building had knocked his world off kilter. He doubted he’d ever forget seeing her through the smoke, but he needed to restore his carefully managed equilibrium because blocking out the past and focusing on the present was how he got through each day.
Oreo, his old Springer spaniel, strolled up to him and rubbed against his knee. Her white-and-gold patches gleamed from the brushing he’d given her this morning. As usual, the dog seemed to sense his mood. She nuzzled under his hand until it rested on her head, then laid her head on his knee.
“Did you get the pups straightened out, girl?” he asked. Oreo’s daughter had given birth to ten pups the week before. Grandmother Oreo seemed to think it was her duty to ensure each one of the offspring received equal attention from their mother.
The dog’s responsive yowl made Kent laugh. Her throated growls sounded as if she was asking him about his day. Since Lisa’s death he’d gotten into the habit of talking to the dog. Oreo had become his companion so he told her what was on his mind.
“Hope needs a kids’ doctor. Jaclyn’s clinic is unusable, but Dad’s old building might make a good replacement.” The dog shifted and he nodded. “I know. It’s probably a wreck.”
Kent didn’t want to admit how much seeing Jaclyn had affected him. He was grateful when a car’s lights flashed as it climbed the hill to his ranch house. Company would be good.
He gulped when Jaclyn climbed out of a sky-blue convertible and walked toward him—limped, actually. She had on a pair of jeans, a perfectly pressed candy-pink shirt and a pair of white sneakers that looked brand-new. Typical city girl.
“Hello.” Her smile displayed perfect white teeth. Everything about her was perfect.
“Hi.” He motioned to a chair. “How’s the foot?” he asked when she’d sat.
“Sore.” She tucked some of the glossy silver-blond strands behind one ear before she bent to pet his dog. “But fine.”
“Good.” Suddenly he could think of nothing to say.
“I wanted to thank you again for saving me this afternoon, Kent. I would have died without your help.” Her big brown eyes stared earnestly into his.
“Don’t thank me.” He heard the gruffness in his voice and wished he could sound less affected by her presence. He didn’t want her to guess how much seeing her again had affected him. “One of the other guys would have found you.”
“But you were the one who did and you treated my foot. So thank you.” She paused a moment.
“Sure. Anything else?” It was rude and ungracious but suddenly Kent didn’t want to talk to Jaclyn. She upset his carefully regulated world.
“Yes, there is. You mentioned your dad’s office building.”
“Yeah.” He kept it noncommittal.
“I noticed it’s unoccupied. Is renting it an option?” Her voice became businesslike.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been through the place in ages.” Why had he ever opened his big mouth? He wanted to avoid her, not build a relationship. When hope flickered in her eyes he blurted out the first excuse he could think of. “There could be some issues with the place.”
“Can you check?” Jaclyn rubbed the sweet spot behind Oreo’s ears and smiled at the dog’s growled appreciation. She refocused on Kent. “It’s really important to me to get the clinic going again.” Her eyes held his. “Please?”
“I’ve got the ranch and my practice,” he reminded. “I’m pretty busy.”
“I’m sure you are.” She kept staring, waiting.
“Fine,” he relented when it became obvious she wouldn’t back off. “I’ll look as soon as I can.” In the meantime maybe she’d find something else and he could forget her and go on with his normal life.
In his dreams. He remembered Jaclyn’s tenacity too well.
“If you’d let me know when you go, I’d like to come along.” Her smile blazed. “The clinic has to be fully operational, treating a certain number of patients, in three months or I jeopardize my financing. This is March. That means I’d have to move in by the end of May.”
“I said I’ll get to it when I can and I will.” He swallowed his harsh tone and focused on his manners. She was his guest and he hadn’t offered her anything. His mother would be appalled. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Iced tea? If it’s not too much trouble.”
Kent went inside and reached for the fridge door. To his shock, Jaclyn followed him and was now looking around the kitchen. He wished he hadn’t offered her a drink. Or anything else. He didn’t want her here, seeing the starkness of his kitchen and realizing that it mirrored his life. He didn’t want her leaving behind the scent of her fancy perfume. Mostly he didn’t want her seeing how pathetic he was.
He held out a brimming glass.
“Thanks. Do you have any lemon?” She accompanied the request with the sweetest smile.
Kent hacked off a wedge of lemon and held it out.
“Oh.” She took it daintily between her fingertips—perfectly manicured fingertips with pale pink polish. “Um, thank you.” She moved to stand in front of the sink, pinched the lemon into her glass and stirred it with a finger. “Lovely.” She held the piece of lemon between two fingers, searching for a place to discard it.
Kent handed her a sheet of paper towel.
“Thanks.” She wrapped the towel around the lemon wedge and set it on the counter before she took another sip. “It feels cool out tonight.”
Meaning he could hardly lead her outside to the patio again. He motioned to one of the kitchen chairs. Jaclyn sank onto it with graceful elegance. Kent couldn’t help noticing her expensive jeans, her tailored blouse, and her three pieces of jewelry—two small gold hoops in her ears and a thin gold chair around her neck—that made her look like a princess slumming it.
“Are you still holding that night at the church against me, Kent?”
“What?” He jerked to awareness, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring at her. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”
“You act as if you’re mad at me.” Her smile grew wistful. “I never came back to Hope for any of the reunions and I haven’t seen you since the night of high school graduation, so I’m guessing your attitude has to be about the night I wrecked the church. I’ll apologize again if it means you’ll forgive me for letting you take the blame for that night, even for a little while.”
